[ 


S.lfMQ, 

ot  Hw#t09i«|  gr 

PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


R 722.32  . D68  A3  1898 
Dowkontt , George  D., 
3-1909  . 

"Tell  them";  or.  The 
ct nr v of  a medical 


1842  c 
life 


.1 


Shelf 


. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/tellthemorlifest00dowk_0 


“TELL  THEM” 


OR, 

THE  LIFE  STORY  OF  A MEDICAL 
MISSIONARY. 


By  GEORGE  D.  DOWKONTT,  M.  D., 

Author  of  “ Murdered  Millions  v.  Medical  Missions,” 
*■  The  Need  of  the  Nations,”  “ Forty  Facts  for  Thought- 
ful Christians,”  “A  Summer’s  Fishing  on  the 
Bowery,”  etc.;  Editor  of  The  Medical 
Missionary  Record. 


ILLUSTRATED. 


“ Tell  them  how  great  things  the  Lord  hath  done  for  thee,” 
Mark  v:  19. 


NEW  YORK : 

Office  of  the  Medical  Missionary  Record, 
21  East  Forty-fifth  Street. 

1898. 


List  of  Illustrations. 


PA«E 

1.  Portrait  of  the  Author, Frontispiece. 

2.  The  Victor  and  the  Vanquished 12 

3.  Earning  a Shilling, 20 

4.  Saved  by  the  “ Skin  of  His  Teeth,” 30 

5.  A “ Three-Decker,” 38 

6.  We  Three, . 50 

7-  Miss  Weston,  the  Sailor’s  Friend, 64 

8.  A Great  Gathering  on  Board  a Man-o’ -War,  ...  68 

9.  Rev.  Theodore  L.  Cuvier,  D.  D. 76 

10.  A Noble  English  Admiral, 82 

11.  Old  Uncle  Tom,  of  “ Uncle  Tom’s  Cabin,”  ...  86 

12.  Dr.  W.  Burns-Thomson, 92 

13.  A Letter  from  Miss  Weston, 102 

14.  A Liverpool  Christian  Merchant, 105 

15-  A Trio  of  Old  Friends  in  New  York, 116 

16.  Roosevelt  Street  Medical  Mission, 133 

17.  Mr.  Heli  Chatelain,  the  Africanist, 148 

18.  Dr.  Summers,  our  First  Student, 156 

19.  Students  of  the  I.  M.  M.  S. , 166 

20.  A Group  of  Six, 174 

21.  A Mother  to  the  Motherless, 194 

22.  Two  Little  Ones, 196 

23.  The  Great  Physician, 212 

24.  Students  of  the  I.  M.  M.  S.  (1S92), 227 

25.  A Letter  from  Dr.  A.  J.  Gordon, 241 


Copyrighted  in  the  United  States,  1898,  by 

George  D.  Dowkontt. 

Printed  in  the  United  States. 


4 


Titles  of  Chapters. 


PAGE 

“ Ye  Are  My  Witnesses,”  (Introductory),  ....  7 

1.  The  Polish  Lancer, • • 9 

2.  A Hairbreadth  Escape, 13 

3.  Ups  and  Downs, 16 

4.  A Boy's  First  Prayer, 19 

5.  A Start  in  Business,  22 

6.  A Great  Loss 26 

7.  On  Board  a Man-of-War; 29 

8.  The  threat  Change, 34 

9.  Darkness  and  Dawn, 39 

10.  First-Fruits, -43 

11.  First  Friends, 4^ 

12.  A Marvellous  Answer 51 

13.  Hindrances, -55 

14.  The  Victim  Victorious, 60 

15.  Miss  Weston,  the  “One  I.ady  for  the  Navy,”  . . 63 

16.  New  Fields  of  Labor, 69 

17.  Flow  the  R.  N.  T.  S.  Was  Started, 73 

18.  Two  Memorable  Gatherings, 77 

19.  The  Arctic  Expedition  of  1875, 80 

20.  The  R.  N.  T.  S.  Anniversary  in  1897 83 

21.  Meeting  with  Uncle  Tom; 87 

22.  Great  Changes, 93 

23.  Providential  Dealings, 98 

24.  Across  the  Atlantic, 101 

25.  In  a Strange  Land, 106 

26.  Just  in  Time 112 

27.  First  Experiences  in  New  York, 1 1 5 

28.  Discouragements  and  Deliverances, 121 

29.  A Silver  D, 126 


5 


TITLES  OF  CHAPTERS. 


30.  Unexpected  Visitors 131 

31.  Progress  and  Providence,  . . ; 137 

32.  How  the  Rent  Was  Paid, ■ 14 1 

33.  Entertaining  Angels, 146 

34.  Our  First  Student, 151 

35.  The  Call  of  God 157 

36.  In  Dark  Africa, 162 

37.  Training  Medical  Missionaries, 167 

38.  A Terrible  Trial, 173 

39.  A Chapter  of  Stirring  Events, 178 

40.  A Wonderful  Experience, 184 

41.  The  Widow  and  the  Fatherless, 188 

42.  Retribution, 192 

43.  A Trio  of  Cases, 1 97 

44.  Dead,  but  Alive  Again,  * . . 202 

45.  Trophies, 213 

46.  Life  Lessons  Learned,  219 

47.  The  Great  Conflict . . 224 

48.  What  Satan  Hates, 228 

49.  The  Retrospect— Thanksgiving, 233 

50.  “ What  Wilt  Thou  ?” 242 


6 


“ye  are  MY  WITNESSES.” 


Introductory. 

“Ye  Are  My  Witnesses.” 

After  the  “Legion”  had  been  cast  out  of 
the  demoniac  at  Gadara,  Jesus  said  to  him, 
“Go  home  to  thy  friends,  and  tell  them  how 
great  things  the  Lord  hath  done  for  thee.” 
The  people  of  Gadara  had  bade  Christ  depart 
from  their  coast,  but  He  left  them  a preacher 
whose  changed  life  and  anointed  lips  should 
proclaim  the  fame  of  his  Deliverer,  and  lead 
others  to  come  to  Him,  and  trust  in  Him, 
even  as  he  himself  had  done. 

Testimony  for  God,  begets  faith  in  God. 
The  invitation  and  testimony  of  the  woman  at 
the  well  of  Samaria,  “Come,  see  a man,  who 
told  me  all  things  that  ever  I did,”  led  her 
neighbors  to  Christ.  When  returning  from 
the  well,  they  said  to  the  woman,  “Now  we 
believe,  not  because  of  thy  saying,  for  we  have 
heard  Him  for  ourselves,  and  know  that  this 
is  indeed  the  Saviour  of  the  world.” 

The  first  spark  of  their  faith  was  kindled  by 
her  testimony,  and  that  spark  was  fanned  into 
a flame  by  their  own  experience. 

During  the  past  few  years  several  friends 
have  urged  the  writer  to  publish  some  account 
of  his  experiences  and  deliverances  by  Divine 
interposition  and  aid. 


7 


"tell  them.” 

Two  things  have  caused  some  hesitancy  in 
complying  therewith;  the  one  a natural  shrink- 
ing from  “telling  all,”  or  much,  of  one’s  own 
private  life  struggles;  the  other,  a fear  lest  one 
should  boast,  or  seem  to,  of  self  rather  than 
of  the  Lord. 

With  regard  to  the  first  objection,  only 
pride  or  cowardice  would  suppress  the  truth; 
and  with  respect  to  the  latter,  well,  if  the  poor 
beggar,  who,  in  rags  and  penury,  sought  help 
from  the  King  can  boast,  then  can  we.  David 
wrote,  “My  soul  shall  make  her  boast  in  the 
Lord.  The  humble  shall  hear  thereof  and 
be  glad.”  Only  the  truly  humble  can  and  do 
rejoice  in  the  success  of  others.  Soon  after 
the  writer’s  conversion  in  1864,  two  books 
were  read  by  him  with  very  deep  interest. 
rl  he  one  was  entitled  “The  Power  of  Prayer,” 
giving  an  account  of  the  Fulton  Street  Noon 
Prayer  Meeting,  in  New  York,  for  the  first 
five  years,— 1857  to  1862.  The  other  book 
was  the  life  of  George  Muller,  of  Bristol,  Eng- 
land. These  books  proved  of  the  greatest 
value  to  the  then  young  Christian,  who  read 
them,  and  who  in  turn  now,  after  more  than 
thirty  years  of  experience,  desires  to  tell  how, 
“He  helped”  him,  with  the  prayer  that  others 
may  get  hope  and  encouragement  to  “Seek 
and  find,”  to  “Ask  and  receive.” 

George  D.  Dowkontt. 

New  York,  January  1st,  I8g8. 


8 


THE  POLISH  LANCER. 


Chapter  I. 

The  Polish  Lancer. 

As  the  bells  in  many  cities  chimed  the  hour 
of  seven,  on  the  evening  of  November  30, 
1830,  the  people  of  Poland  made  the  deter- 
mined attempt  to  free  themselves  from  the 
thraldom  of  Russia,  which  history  has  record- 
ed and  applauded  with  her  iron  pen. 

The  Grand  Duke  Constantine,  the  Russian 
Governor  of  Poland,  narrowly  escaped  with 
his  life  by  jumping  from  a window  in  his 
palace,  as  his  pursuers  ascended  the  stairs; 
and  many  of  his  Imperial  Guard  were  killed 
in  the  first  blow  of  the  revolution,  which  was 
so  sudden  and  severe. 

The  Poles  had  selected  an  hour  when  the 
cavalry  would  be  off  guard.  and  attending  to 
their  horses  for  the  night,  and  the  military 
stables  were  among  the  first  places  to  be  at- 
tacked. 

As  the  alarm  assembly  was  sounded  the 
soldiers  endeavored  to  obey,  but  were  shot 
dotvn  as  they  sought  to  leave  the  stables; 
some  few,  however,  managed  to  escape,  and 
among  them  a young  Pole  of  twenty  years, 
who  soon  decided  not  to  fiedrt  against  his  kith 
and  kin,  but  to  join  them.  He  did  so,  and  was 
appointed  to  a regiment  of  Polish  lancers,  or- 
ganized by  the  patriot  insurgents  to  fight  for 
the  deliverance  of  their  country  from  Russian 
tyranny.  This  young  soldier,  who  was  made 
sergeant  in  the  regiment,  was  my  father, 

9 


‘‘tell  them.” 

The  Poles,  as  the  world  knows,  had  to  con- 
tend with  great  odds,  and  were  largely  out- 
numbered by  their  foes,  in  addition  to  their 
being  poorly  equipped  generally;  but  history 
has  told  us  how  brave  and  heroic  was  the 
struggle  which  they  made,  while  England  and 
America  vied  with  other  countries  in  afford- 
ing the  refugees  an  hospitable  welcome  to 
their  shores. 

On  one  occasion,  after  a severe  battle,  in 
which  the  Poles  were  greatly  outnumbered,  a 
retreat  was  made  by  the  revolutionists  into 
and  through  a wood,  the  Russians  encamping 
on  the  near  side  of  it  and  the  Poles  on  the 
other.  Scouts  were  sent  out  by  the  latter  to 
reconnoitre,  and,  if  possible,  pick  up  any 
wounded  Poles  who  had  “fallen  by  the  way.” 

A sergeant,  who  was  on  this  duty  with  two 
troopers,  found  himself  unexpectedly  at  the 
edge  of  the  wood  on  the  Russian  side,  and 
close  to  a party  of  cossacks.  fifteen  in  number, 
who  were  in  the  act  of  carrying  off  some 
wounded  Poles,  one  of  whom  was  an  officer. 
Realizing  that  to  attempt  escape  would  mean 
death,  he  drew  his  sword,  and,  dashing  for- 
ward, roared  the  word  of  command  as  if  a 
regiment  was  behind  him.  This  had  the  de- 
sired effect,  for  the  cossacks  dropped  their 
prisoners  and  galloped  off,  only  looking  back 
in  time  to  see  three  horses  enter  the  wood 
with  two  men  on  each. 

Arriving  in  camp,  the  commander  offered 
the  sergeant  (my  father)  his  choice  between 
a captaincy  and  a “Legion  of  Honor.”  The 
latter  was  accepted  in  preference,  with  the  re- 
mark that,  “PromcTcm  i more  easily  obtain- 
ed than  honor." 


IO 


THE  POLISH  LANCER. 


Not  long  after  this,  however,  he  was  taken 
prisoner  and  was  being-  driven  to  trial  and 
death  as  a deserter  in  a covered  military 
wagon,  in  charge  of  a Russian  escort.  Hav- 
ing to  travel  several  miles,  the  latter  had  pro- 
vided themselves  with  some  liquor,  of  which 
thev  partook  freely  on  the  iourney,  and  be- 
came drunk.  Watching  his  opportunity, 
their  prisoner  mingled  some  snuff  with  the 
liquor,  which  soon  put  the  escort  into  a sound 
stupor. 

Providing  himself  with  all  that  he  needed, 
or  thought  he  could  carrv,  he  struck  the 
driver  a blow  with  the  butt  end  of  a rifle,  and, 
as  he  fell,  reined  the  horses  quickly,  sprang 
out  and  unhitching  one  horse,  galloped  away 
on  it  into  a neighboring  forest.  Here  he  re- 
mained for  some  weeks,  until  the  opportunity 
was  afforded  him  to  rejoin  his  comrades  in 
arms,  who  warmly  welcomed  his  return  to 
their  ranks. 


dashed  away  to  die  right.’ 


A HAIRBREADTH  ESCAPE. 


Chapter  II. 

A Hairbreadth  Escape. 

Soon  after  this  occurred  his  regiment  was 
engaged  in  a hand-to-hand  combat  with  some 
Russian  cavalry  when  a large  body  of  the 
enemy  was  observed  hastening  to  strengthen 
their  comrades.  The  Polish  commander 
caused  the  retreat  to  be  sounded,  but  those 
engaged  “in  the  thick  of  the  fight”  failed  to 
hear  it,  and  presently  discovered  that  a mere 
handful  of  them  remained  in  the  midst  of 
the  Russian  forces. 

With  a desperate  effort  my  father  succeed- 
ed in  freeing  himself  and  made  a dash  for 
liberty,  but  alas!  a bullet  struck  his  horse  to 
the  ground.  At  the  same  instant  a Russian 
officer,  dashing  along,  sabre  in  hand,  aimed 
a blow  at  him  as  he  stood  expecting  only  to 
be  trampled  to  death  by  the  oncoming  troops. 

As  the  sabre  of  the  officer  came  whizzing 
through  the  air  and  struck  the  lancer  beneath 
the  chin  he  parried  the  blow  with  his  lance, 
and  dexterously  thrust  his  assailant  through. 
At  the  same  instant  he  grasped  the  bridle  of 
his  assailant’s  horse,  and,  leaping  thereon, 
dashed  away  to  the  right  and  into  the  forest. 
Once  more  liberty  was  gained,  but  only  with 
the  prospect  of  a repetition  of  life  in  the  forest 
and  alone,  with  the  painful  accompaniment  of 
two  sword  wounds. 

What  the  young  lancer  passed  through 
during  the  following  weeks  and  months  can- 
J3 


“tell  them.” 

not  be  written.  His  horse  finally  died,  and, 
more  dead  than  alive,  his  master  came  to  the 
edge  of  the  wood  to  watch  for  a kindly  face 
which  he  might  trust  the  owner  of  to  deliver 
him  from  loneliness  and  death. 

At  last  a man,  whose  countenance  seemed 
to  indicate  a possible  friend,  came  along,  and 
to  him  he  confided  his  case.  As  the  stranger 
assured  the  soldier  of  his  sympathy  with  him, 
and  of  his  willingness  to  take  him  to  a great 
friend  of  the  Poles,  his  heart  beat  with  a pe- 
culiar joy.  Arriving  at  a large  house,  the 
door  was  opened,  and  one  glance  served  to 
show  the  work  of  a traitor,  and  revealed  to 
my  father  the  fact  that  he  was  “caught.”  As 
he  saw  the  uniforms  of  Russian  soldiery  with- 
in, his  feelings  may  be  better  imagined  than 
described. 

Being  summoned  before  the  officer  in  com- 
mand, he  was  briefly  auestioned  as  to  his 
name  and  place  of  birth.  Doubtless  other 
questions  would  have  followed,  but,  to  the 
astonishment  of  both  the  prisoner  and  his 
escort,  the  general  bade  the  soldiers  leave  the 
prisoner  with  him. 

The  soldiers  having  departed,  the  general 
asked  one  or  two  more  auestions,  and,  falling 
upon  the  prisoner’s  neck,  with  tears  in  his 
eyes,  embraced  him,  exclaiming,  “Can  it  really 
be  that  you  are  the  son  of  my  old  playmate?  I 
can  never  betray  the  son  of  my  dear  old 
friend.” 

The  prisoner  was  soon  after  sent  away, 
passport  in  hand,  money  in  his  pocket,  and 
well  clothed,  to  make  his  way  to  France, 
which  country  he  reached,  and,  taking  up  his 
14 


A HAIRBREADTH  ESCAPE. 


abode  in  Paris,  remained  there  nearly  two 
years.  At  the  end  of  this  time  he  made  his 
way  to  London,  and  soon  learned  to  make 
boots  and  shoes,  in  which  calling  he  subse- 
quently excelled. 

In  1837  he  married  my  mother,  Miss  Mary 
Oldfield,  granddaughter  of  a former  Ludgate 
Hill  lapidary  and  goldsmith.  The  young 
couple  went  to  work  with  a will,  and  soon  es- 
tablished themselves  in  a comfortable  home 
and  business,  and  at  the  time  the  writer  was 
born  (April.  1843)  they  resided  in  what  is  now 
known  as  Queen’s  Road,  Bavswater,  London.* 


* My  father  died  in  England,  in  September,  1893,  in  his 
eighty-fourth  year. 


IS 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  III. 

Ups  and  Downs. 

How  many  a bold  and  brave  man,  who  has 
readily  conquered  his  country’s  foe  on  the 
field  of  battle,  has  been  overcome  by  the  in- 
sidious moral  enemies  which  have  assailed 
him.  It  was  so  with  mv  father. 

For  the  first  few  years  of  his  married  life 
he  worked  early  and  late  to  build  up,  as  he 
succeeded  in  doing’,  a prosperous  business, 
and  had  among  his  regular  customers  several 
of  the  nobility  of  England.  But,  as  sometimes 
happens,  success  was  only  the  prelude  to  fail- 
ure. 

Being  in  a prosperous  condition  his  com- 
pany was  sought  by  some  gamblers,  to  whom 
he  became  a ready,  unsuspecting  victim,  until 
finally  he  lost  all  that  he  possessed,  and  saw 
himself,  wife  and  four  children  turned  into  the 
street,  with  nothing  in  the  world  belonging  to 
them  but  the  clothing  they  wore. 

To  see  the  various  articles  which  husband 
and  wife  had  labored  so  hard  to  obtain  to  fur- 
nish a “home”  (most  of  which  had  either  been 
the  subject  of  mutual  interest  or  of  individual 
surprise  and  loving  thoughtfulness  of  the 
other)  ruthlessly  torn  away  from  their  posses- 
sors is  an  experience  none  need  desire  to  pass 
through,  although  it  may  not  be  fully  under- 
stood without  their  doing  so. 

There  was  but  one  door  open  in  such  a case, 
the  so-called  almshouse,  and  here  the  family 
16 


UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


of  six  had  to  take  refuge  for  some  weeks  ere  it 
was  possible  for  its  head  to  make  a fresh  start 
in  life,  a by  no  means  easy  task  under  such 
circumstances. 

To  roll  down  a hill  does  not  call  for  much 
effort  or  anything  else;  but  to  climb  one,  es- 
pecially after  a fall,  requires  push,  pluck  and 
perseverance;  and,  even  when  possessing  and 
exercising  all  of  these,  the  task  is  not  easily, 
if  ever,  fully  performed;  for,  very  seldom  in- 
deed does  a man  reach  as  high  a point  again 
as  that  from  which  he  fell. 

It  was  decided,  after  some  weeks’  residence 
in  the  poorhouse,  to  leave  that  much-to-be 
dreaded  and  avoided  institution,  and  to  make 
a fresh  start  in  life  in  earnest. 

The  writer  was  about  eleven  years  of  age 
at  this  time  and  can  still  remember  how  he 
planned  to  do  some  wonderful  things  of  which 
he  ventured  to  tell  his  beloved  mother,  to 
cheer  her  up  in  the  midst  of  her  grief. 

In  a single  room,  with  very  few  articles  of 
furniture,  our  family  took  up  its  abode.  One 
day  the  writer’s  heart  was  made  glad  by  his 
being  called  by  the  proprietor  of  a chemist’s 
shop,  or  drug  store,  to  go  upon  some  messages 
or  errands.  This  was  increased  considerably 
by  his  being  asked,  “Iiow  would  you  like  to 
come  to  work  for  me?  I’ll  give  you  four 
shillings  ($i)  a week  to  begin  with.’’ 

Visions  of  what  such  a large  amount,  as  it 
then  seemed,  would  accomplish,  and  the 
thought  of  earning  it  all  one’s  self,  rose  up  in 
the  boyish  mind  and  soon  evoked  the  reply, 
“I’ll  be  pleased  to  co^".  sir:  but  I’d  like  to 
ask  mother  first.” 


17 


“tell  them.” 


Permission  was  readily  obtained,  and  the 
young  druggist  soon  became  sufficiently  pro- 
ficient to  be  able  to  serve  Epsom  salts  in 
package,  castor  oil,  etc. 

What  a big  four  shilling's  the  first  week’s 
wages  seemed  to  the  bov  who  had  worked  for 
them,  and  who  soon  ran  home  with  some  de- 
gree of  pride  as  well  as  pleasure  to  give  them 
to  “mother.” 

About  this  time  one  of  mv  father’s  former 
lady  customers,  who  had  not  seen  or  known 
of  him  for  some  years,  accidentally  met  him, 
and  at  once  gave  him  an  order  for  two  dozen 
pairs  of  boots  and  shoes  for  herself,  for,  she 
said,  “No  one  can  make  shoes  to  fit  me  but 
you.” 

After  some  months  of  struggle  we  removed 
to  another  part  of  London,  and  the  first  em- 
ployer was  parted  with,  not  without  consider- 
able regret.  The  struggle  up  hill  went  on  for 
some  time;  now  things  would  brighten,  and 
again  the  clouds  would  gather. 

One  day,  breakfast  being  finished,  with  it 
ended  all  supplies  actual  and  probable,  giving 
rise  to  the  oft-repeated  question,  “Where  is 
the  next  to  come  from?”  A mother’s  prayer 
again  ascended  for  help  to  Him  who  never 
turned  a deaf  ear  to  anv  earnest  seeker  for 
aid,  and  again  the  cry  “Lord  help  me”  was 
answered.  Tr-ue,  the  answer  seemed  long  in 
coming,  but  it  came  at  last. 


*8 


A boy’s  first  prayer. 


Chapter  IV. 

A Boy’s  First  Prayer. 

The  boy  of  twelve  years  left  home  that 
morning  fully  determined  to  bring'  back  some- 
thing before  night.  All  that  day  he  wandered 
up  and  down  the  streets  of  that  great  city,  his 
clothes  being  too  shabby,  as  he  felt,  to  make 
it  worth  his  while  to  apply  for  a “place”  in 
some  of  the  large  and  stylish  shops. 

It  was  nearly  dark,  when,  hungry  and  foot- 
sore, and  ready  to  despair  of  securing  any- 
thing, his  ears  caught  the  sound  of  a horse’s 
hoofs  close  to  him,  causing  him  to  turn 
around,  as  the  voice  of  the  rider  accosted  him: 
“Here,  boy,  will  you  hold  my  horse?”  “Yes, 
sir,”  was  the  ready  response,  as  the  bridle 
was  grasped. 

As  the  writer  stood  there  on  Regent  street, 
holding  that  horse,  he  believes  the  first  real 
prayer  for  help  arose  to  God  from  his  heart, 
and  it  was  answered. 

Among  the  many  things  projected  in  his 
boyish  mind  wras  that  of  starting  in  the  news 
business;  not  in  any  large  way,  of  course,  at 
first.  He  had  often  noticed  the  boys  at  Char- 
ing Cross,  and  elsewhere,  selling  the  daily 
papers,  and  after  thinking  the  matter  over  had 
concluded  that,  although  it  would  be  very 
hard  for  him  to  become  a “newsboy,”  and 
humbling  as  it  might  be  to  run  the  risk  of 
meeting  some  of  the  friends  of  “better  days,” 
still  it  was  better  to  do  that  than  nothing,  and 

19 


“ The  first  real  prayer  for  help  arose  to  God.” 


A boy’s  first  prayer. 


so  earn  an  honest  living;  and  his  prayer  took 
shape  accordingly.  If  he  could  but  get  six- 
pence, he  would  “start  business”  next  dav, 
and  this  was  what  he  needed  and  sought. 

An  hour  passed  before  the  owner  of  the 
horse  came  out  again.  As  he  sprang  into  the 
saddle,  he  dropped  something  into  the  hand 
of  the  boy  hostler,  saying,  “Here  you  are,  my 
boy;  sorry  to  have  kept  you  so  long,”  and 
galloped  off. 

It  had  become  too  dark  to  see  what  kind  of 
coin  lie  had  given,  but  it  seemed  too  large  tor 
a sixpence  and  too  small  for  a halfpenny. 
Taking  it  to  a shop  window  the  light  revealed 

A SILVER  SHILLING. 

How  much  larger  a coin  appears  when  set 
in  the  frame  of  poverty  and  need! 

The  question  as  to  how  to  dispose  of  this 
important  sum  was  quickly  settled  and  acted 
upon.  Entering  a shop  near  by,  the  shilling 
was  exchanged  for  two  sixpences,  one  of 
which  was  invested  in  a loaf  of  bread,  a small 
amount  of  tea  and  sugar,  and  a candle;  and 
the  other  was  carefully  “pocketed”  to  “com- 
mence business”  with  next  day.  What  joy 
that  shilling  caused!  A supper  for  six  with 
light  to  eat  it  by,  and  enough  left  to  start  in 
business.  Truly  if  necessity  is  the  mother  of 
invention,  poverty  must  be  the  father. 

Nothing  was  said  about  the  plans  for  the 
next  day,  except  an  intimation,  or  assurance, 
that  as  God  had  provided  for  that  day,  Pie 
would  for  the  next. 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  V. 

A Start  in  Business. 

On  the  following’  morning  the  young  news 
agent  crept  out  of  his  bed  on  the  floor,  from 
the  side  of  the  other  children,  and  stole  out  of 
the  house  unobserved,  just  after  the  church 
clock  struck  four. 

He  had  spent  a considerable  portion  cf  the 
night  practising,  at  least  mentally,  and  at 
times  half  aloud,  the  various  titles  of  the  pa- 
pers he  hoped  to  sell.  Arriving  near  Temple 
Bar,  in  the  Strand,  the  sixpence  was  quickly 
exchanged  for  eight  penny  papers,  which  were 
soon  sold  and  others  bought.  At  this  time 
ihere  was  a great  demand  for  news,  as  the 
Crimean  war  was  raging. 

By  ten  o’clock  home  was  reached,  and  the 
consternation,  anxiety  and  hunger  of  the  fam- 
ily relieved  by  the  production  of  two  shillings, 
into  which  sum  the  sixpence  had  grown  in 
six  hours.  General  rejoicing  followed  the  an- 
nouncement, made  by  the  “business  man”  of 
twelve  summers,  that  “Want  shall  be  no 
more.” 

The  following  morning  the  writer  was 
standing  near  Charing  Cross  trying  to  sell 
his  papers,  when  a gentleman  asked  him  how 
long  he  had  been  in  that  business,  and  ac- 
companied his  question  by  a statement  which 
seemed  to  be  a reflection  upon  his  manner  of 
conducting  it,  viz.:  “I  don’t  think  you’ve  been 
at  it  long.” 


22 


A START  IN  BUSINESS. 


After  further  inquiry  regarding  my  home 
and  parents  he  handed  me  his  card,  on  which 
was  inscribed,  “Captain  J.  A.  Sykes,  H.  M.’s 
94th  Regt.”  Having  written  his  address  on 
the  card,  he  said,  “Call  there  at  nine  o’clock 
to-morrow  morning,  my  boy,  and  I think  I 
can  give  you  some  clothing  which  your  moth- 
er may  aiter  for  you.” 

When  the  recipient  of  the  card  called  there 
the  following  morning  he  was  astounded  at 
the  heap  of  things  the  captain  gave  him.  Ic 
was  almost  impossible  for  him  to  carry  them 
away.  He  succeeded,  however,  and,  after  sev- 
eral rests  by  the  way,  finally  reached  home, 
very  tired,  and  had  to  obtain  the  help  of  his 
father  to  carry  the  huge  bundle  up  stairs. 

When  it  was  opened  there  appeared  all  sorts 
of  clothing,  the  value  of  which  was  not  less 
than  fifty  dollars.  A mother’s  fears  led  to 
close  but  kindly  questioning,  mingled  with 
expressions  of  astonishment  as  to  what  could 
make  an  entire  stranger  so  act  towards  a poor 
boy.  The  only  explanation  was  found  in  one 
word — GOD. 

There  was  one  member  of  the  family  whose 
joy  Knew  no  bounds,  as  she  saw  the  pile  of 
garments  heaped  on  the  floor,  and  nodded  her 
head  by  way  of  assent  to  the  explanation 
given;  it  was  my  only  sister  Mary. 

She  was  four  years  my  senior,  but  never 
once  in  her  whole  life,  which  lasted  twenty- 
four  years,  did  she  know  what  it  was  to  stand 
upon  her  feet  and  walk;  never  once  was  she 
able  to  raise  her  hand  to  give  herself  a mouth- 
ful of  food;  never  once  able  to  speak  her  own 
name,  or  that  of  “mother.”  When  yet  an  in- 
23 


“tell  them.” 

fant  a careless  nurse  allowed  her  to  fall  in 
such  a manner  as  to  induce  complete  paraly- 
sis. Blessed,  however,  with  clear  intelligence 
and  a most  patient  and  lovable  disposition, 
she  was  a blessing,  while  yet  a great  burden, 
to  her  devoted  mother  and  to  us  all. 

As  a strong  boy  full  of  life  and  spirits,  how 
she  almost  envied  me  and  wished  she  could 
go  out  and  work  too,  and  help  mother.  But 
"God  could  help,"  and  He  had  done  so,  and  in 
this  she  rejoiced.  Although  unable  to  speak 
a single  word  distinctly,  she  was  able  to  make 
certain  peculiar  sounds  which  were  to  her 
mother  a language  she  alone  understood. 

How  much  more  bitter  was  the  cup  of  af- 
fliction and  trial  we  had  passed  through,  and 
were  still  experiencing,  with  this  dear  sufferer 
among  us,  the  reader  may  imagine,  and  yet, 
possibly  she  was  the  greatest  helper  of  the 
family  after  all,  and  not  her  strong  boy 
brother.  Often  when  passing  in  front  of  the 
house  in  which  we  lived,  in  company  with 
other  boys,  would  I look  up  to  the  window  to 
which  she  had  been  wheeled  in  her  chair, 
when,  turning  to  her  mother,  she  would  look 
upward  and  sav  in  language  mother  and  the 
God  of  love  understood,  “I,  too,  will  be  able  to 
run  about  up  there.” 

Many  years  since  have  both  Marys,  mother 
and  daughter,  walked  together  the  streets  of 
Paradise. 

How  gieat  a blessing  such  an  afflicted  one 
often  is  to  a family.  What  sympathy  and  lov- 
ing tenderness  is  thus  called  forth  in  presence 
of  the  patience  of  the  suffering  one.  Such  an 
experience  often  gives  moral  and  spiritual  tone 
24 


A START  IN  BUSINESS. 


to  a whole  family  and  makes  all  its  members 
better  men  and  women  in  the  world,  and  pro- 
duces practical  sympathy  towards  others  as 
perhaps  nothing-  else  can. 

If  it  must  needs  be  that  the  Saviour  of  men 
be  made  “acquainted  with  grief,”  and  be  called 
“a  man  of  sorrows,”  how  much  more  do  or- 
dinary men  and  women  need  the  softening  in- 
fluence of  suffering  in  themselves,  or  in  those 
dear  to  them,  to  fit  them  to  sympathize  with 
and  be  “ready  to  help”  those  in  need? 

In  this,  too,  I feel  I am  much  a debtor  to 
the  dear  one  referred  to. 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  VI. 

A Great  Loss. 

About  a year  after  the  occurrences  nar- 
rated in  the  previous  chapter  Captain  Sykes 
called  at  the  home  of  the  boy  he  had  befrien fl- 
ed; he  did  not  see  him,  but  talked  to  his 
mother  in  a very  friendly  manner. 

Scarce  six  weeks  passed  away,  however, 
after  the  Captain’s  visit  when  the  writer  left 
his  home  one  morning  (October  15,  1856) 
and  said  “good-bye”  as  he  kissed  the  dearest 
and  best  of  mothers,  and  went  to  work  where 
he  was  then  employed.  Upon  his  return 
home  at  five  o’clock  he  found  to  his  great  sor- 
row that  his  best  friend  on  earth  had  been 
“called  home.”  Her  last  breath  was  spent  in 
commending  her  children  to  her  heavenly  Fa- 
ther's care,  and  she  died  with  the  name  of  her 
eldest  boy  upon  her  lips.  Was  it  in  vain?  No, 
indeed. 

Every  boy  ought  to  be  ablt  to  feci  and  say 
that  his  mother  is,  or  was,  the  best  of  mothers, 
but,  sad  to  say,  not  all  can  do  so.  The  writer, 
however,  cannot  but  speak  forth  the  praises  of 
her  who  gave  him  birth,  and  who  first  taught 
him  to  lift  his  young  heart  to  God  in  prayer 
so  beautifully  expressed  by  Cowper: 

“ Prayer  is  the  simplest  form  of  speech 
That  infant  lips  can  try.” 

Who  can  fully  estimate  the  great  blessing  of  a 
loving  mother;  and  who  describe  the  loss 
26 


A GREAT  LOSS. 


when  such  a one  is  taken  away  from  her 
child  or  children?  Truly  the  loss  is  irreparably 
great. 

The  circumstances  which  have  surrounded 
the  relationships  of  mother  and  child  may  add 
largely  to  the  keen  pang  of  parting.  It  was 
so  in  the  writer’s  experience.  The  severe 
trials  through  which  his  family  had  been  called 
to  pass,  the  chief  burden  of  which  fell  upon 
his  mother,  had  led  him,  although  but  a boy, 
to  mark  with  increasing  anxiety  the  failing 
health  of  her  whom  he  loved,  till  at  last  the 
crisis  was  reached  and  the  tired  and  weary 
spirit  went  to  its  rest. 

Looking  back  over  the  forty  years  that 
have  since  passed,  the  writer  is  constrained  to 
feel  and  say  that,  humanly  speaking,  whatever 
of  good  he  has  known  or  done,  he  owes  to 
his  loving  mother,  who  ever  sought  to  lead 
him  into  that  truth  which  is  calculated  to 
produce  a righteous  life  here,  and  to  lead  to 
eternal  life  beyond. 

The  funeral  was  conducted  by  the  parish 
authorities.  . No  provision  was  made  for  the 
mourners  to  be  taken  to  the  “last  resting 
place”  in  Potter’s  field,  five  miles  away.  But 
the  driver  of  the  parish  hearse  (which  con- 
tained more  than  one  poor,  tired  body)  was  a 
kind-hearted  man,  and  allowed  the  writer  and 
his  father  to  share  his  seat  “up  in  front.” 

The  story  of  poor  Lazarus,  and  especially 
the  Saviour’s  words  that  “the  angels  carried 
him,”  afforded  consolation  to  the  mourners. 
It  does  seem  to  be  quite  impossible  for  one  to 
be  placed  in  any  position  in  the  struggle  of 
life  without  discovering  that  Jesus  has  been 
,27 


“tell  them.” 

so  situated  Himself,  for,  did  not  even  He  oc- 
cupy a borrowed  sepulchre?  He  had  nowhere 
to  lay  His  head,  and  nowhere  did  He  have 
where  His  beloved  disciples  could  lay  His 
dead  body. 

The  great  temperance  orator,  John  B. 
Gough,  saw  his  dear  mother  die  in  a garret 
in  New  York,  and  her  body  was  taken  to  the 
Potter’s  field.  Ah,  it  matters  little  as  to  the 
poor  body;  it  will  turn,  sooner  or  later,  to  its 
native  dust;  but  the  soul,  the  ego,  the  actual 
being,  where  has  that  gone?  That  is  the  ques- 
tion. 

On  the  same  day  on  which  the  remains 
of  my  dear  mother  were  placed  to  rest  a 
friendly  hand  and  heart  were  extended  to- 
wards a motherless  and  really  homeless  boy, 
for,  what  indeed  is  home  without  a mother? 

A fellow  countryman  of  my  father’s,  a prac- 
tising physician,  residing  in  Islington,  Lon- 
don, opened  the  door  of  his  home  and  bade 
me  welcome  and  treated  me  as  his  own  son 
for  nearly  a year.  Foolishly,  like  many  an- 
other boy,  I did  not  appreciate  my  advantages 
and  thought  I could  do  better,  and  wanted  a 
change — “to  see  the  world,”  etc.  Hence  I left 
my  friend’s  hospitable  roof  in  1857,  and  the 
subsequent  forty  years  have  indeed  been  full 
of  struggle. 


28 


ON  BOARD  A MAN-OF-WAR. 


Chapter  VII. 

On  Board  a Man-of-War. 

On  the  5th  of  May,  1859,  the  writer,  after 
varied  experiences,  entered  the  Royal  Navy 
as  an  ordinary  seaman,  and  was  soon  sent  on 
board  H.  M.  Ship  “Crocodile,”  then  lying  in 
the  Thames.  She  was  an  old  frigate,  long 
since  broken  up  and  disappeared.  I had  never 
even  seen,  much  less  been  on  board  of  a man- 
o’-war  before,  and  knew  about  as  much  of  a 
ship  as  a ship  knew  of  me.  Being  a big  boy 
for  my  age,  and  not,  I regret  to  say,  having 
a strict  regard  for  speaking  the  truth  at  this 
time,  I said  that  I was  twenty  years  old,  when 
only  in  my  seventeenth  year.  This  I did  to  es- 
cape being  classed  as  a boy,  and  to  secure  a 
man’s  wages  and  position. 

From  the  “Crocodile”  I was  sent  to  Sheer- 
ness and  joined  the  “Queen  Charlotte,”  a large 
“three-decker.”  The  sights  and  sounds  of  a 
man-o’-war  were  all  new  to  the  young  “lands- 
man,” and  soon  caused  him  to  wish  himself 
away  again;  but  that  was  impossible,  so  he 
had  to  settle  down  to  “make  the  best  of  it.” 
A few  weeks  later  I was  drafted  to  H.  M.  S. 
“Emerald,”  a fifty-gun  frigate  with  six  hun- 
dred officers  and  men. 

During  the  following  two  years  and  a half 
many  and  varied  experiences  were  met  with, 
and  several  very  narrow  escapes  from  death 
passed  through.  Some  of  these  deliverances 

29 


‘Coming  down  from  the  rigging,  my  teet  slipped,  my  hands  gave  way,  and  I was  ‘gone.’  ” 


ON  BOARD  A MAN-OF-WAR. 


are  in  keeping  with  the  following  lines  of  John 
Newton,  the  profligate  sailor  lad  who  became 
a great  poet  and  preacher: 

1 ‘ Determined  to  save, 

He  watched  o'er  my  path, 

When,  Satan’s  blind  slave, 

I sported  with  death.” 

On  one  occasion  I was  aloft  on  the  “look- 
out,” the  weather  being  so  intensely  cold  that 
the  men  were  on  duty  only  half  time  on  ex- 
posed positions.  The  man  was  fifteen  minutes 
late  in  “relieving”  me,  and  by  the  time  he  ar- 
rived I was  quite  benumbed  with  the  cold.  The 
ship  was  rolling  very  heavily,  and  as  I was 
coming  down  the  rigging  my  feet  slipped  and 
my  hands  gave  way,  and  I was  “gone,”  when, 
as  by  miracle,  a heavy  sea  striking  the  vessel 
on  the  opposite  side,  caused  her  to  lurch  back 
again,  and  enabled  me  to  clutch  the  rigging 
and  “hang  on”  for  life.  Saved,  as  Job  says, 
“by  the  skin  of  my  teeth.”  Had  I gone  over- 
board there  was  not  the  slightest  chance  of 
my  being  saved  physically,  and  I fear  not  spir- 
itually. It  would  have  been  a “lost  body”  and 
a “lost  soul.” 

On  another  occasion  one  of  the  guns  “took 
charge,”  as  the  ship  was  rolling  heavily,  and, 
whizzing  by  me,  struck  the  side  of  the  ship, 
making  a terrible  indent,  into  which  I after- 
wards laid  my  hand.  Had  the  gun  caugiit 
me  it  would  simply  have  cut  me  in  halves. 

On  October  5,  1861,  the  “Emerald”  set  sail 
from  Spithead  with  a number  of  “Armstrong” 
guns  on  board,  bound  for  Halifax,  Nova  Sco- 
tia, but  she  never  reached  her  destination.  On 
the  5th  of  November  she  arrived  in  the  bar- 


“tell  them.” 

bor  of  Plymouth — a wreck.  What  we  passed 
through  during  that  month  cannot  well  be 
told.  For  sixteen  days  and  nights  we  fought 
with  gales  and  hurricanes,  scarcely  removing 
any  clothing,  or  having  either  proper  rest  or 
food.  Sails  were  blown  to  atoms,  boats  wash- 
ed away  like  bits  of  stick,  masts  and  yards 
“carried  away,”  pumps  choked,  engines  dis- 
abled, and  rudder  “sprung.”  In  this  condi- 
tion, at  daylight  one  morning,  we  sighted  a 
large  vessel  coming  toward  us. 

Nearer  and  nearer  we  came  to  each  other, 
as  either  vessel  rose  to  the  top  of  a sea  moun- 
tain, until  at  last  but  a single  one  of  these 
mountains  separated  us.  At  the  supreme  mo- 
ment of  suspense  no  man  on  board  could 
move  his  tongue.  We  stood  silently  awaiting 
death.  Another  instant  and  the  two  vessels 
met  on  the  top  of  the  huge  sea,  and,  just  glid- 
ing by  each  other,  escaped.  If  anything  was 
calculated  to  produce  fear  of  death,  and  the 
necessary  seeking  to  prepare  for  it,  such  an 
experience  was;  but  it  did  not  do  so;  and 
those  who  had  passed  through  such  trying 
times  soon  forgot  them  after  getting  into  port. 
“Oh,  that  men  would  praise  the  Lord  for  His 
goodness.” 

Doubtless  many  did  cry  unto  the  Lord  in 
their  distress,  and  among  them  the  writer; 
but,  shame  to  say  it,  they  forgot  the  Deliveier 
after  they  had  been  delivered  from  a watery 
grave,  which  seemed  inevitable. 

How  truly  has  Satan  blinded  the  eyes  or 
minds  of  men,  so  that  they  choose  evil  rather 
than  good;  darkness  rather  than  light;  Satan 
than  God;  hell  than  heaven;  and  this  after 

32 


ON  BOARD  A MAN-OF-WAR. 


“God  so  loved  the  world  that  He  gave  His 
only  begotten  Son.”  Truly  it  is  not  sufficient 
that  a Saviour  is  provided  and  man  told  of  his 
need;  something  more  is  required  to  open  his 
eyes  to  his  danger,  and  lead  him  to  escape, 
even  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God. 

One  day  in  March,  i860,  I was  thrown  vio- 
lently on  the  deck  by  the  ship  making  an  un- 
expected and  unusual  plunge.  Being  forcibly 
thrown  against  one  of  the  ship's  guns,  the 
recoil  dashed  me  to  the  deck  in  such  a man- 
ner that  some  of  my  shipmates  ran  forward 
expecting  to  find  me  dead.  They  picked  me 
up  and  helped  me  down  to  the  ship’s  hospital; 
but  fourteen  weeks  passed  before  I could  re- 
sume my  duties.  One  day  during  this  time 
the  three  surgeons  on  board  held  a consulta- 
tion as  to  amputation  above  or  below  the 
knee  joint.  I was  given  twenty-four  hours’ 
respite,  and  my  limb  so  improved  that  I did 
not  suffer  that  loss. 

During  my  convalescence  one  of  the  hos- 
pital attendants  left  and  I was  asked  to  render 
what  aid  I could.  It  was  soon  discovered  that 
I knew  “a  little  about  medicine.”  And  though 
little  it  was  that  I knew,  I was  placed  in  the 
vacant  position  permanently,  and  three  months 
later,  upon  the  sick  berth  steward  (so  called) 
leaving,  I was  given  that  position,  when  really 
not  eighteen  years  of  age. 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  VIII. 

The  Great  Change. 

St.  Paul  states  that  “God  chooses  weak 
things  to  confound  the  mighty;”  and  how 
truly  is  this  the  case.  The  reason  for  it  is  not 
far  to  seek,  even  that  the  hand  of  God  may 
be  evidenced  the  more. 

Gideon’s  army  of  thousands  were  “too 
many”  for  God  to  use  to  deliver  Israel,  so  He 
chose  out  three  hundred  only,  and  did  the 
work  with  that  small  number,  giving  the  rea- 
son therefor. 

Soon  after  arriving  home  again  in  Novem- 
ber, 1861,  I was  transferred  to  H.  M.  Ship 
“Cumberland”  at  Shcerness,  to  serve  under 
my  old  head  surgeon,  who  promoted  me,  and 
who  had  been  appointed  to  the  “Cumberland.” 

One  beautiful  Sunday  afternoon  in  June, 
1864,  with  some  companions,  I visited  a small 
town  called  Queenboro,  and  while  walking 
along  the  main  street  heard  the  voices  of  chil- 
dren singing  in  the  Sunday  school.  Attracted 
thereby,  we  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  road  and 
conversed  much  as  follows: 

“Say,  George,  bothered  if  that  don’t  sound 
good.” 

“Yes,  it  does,  Jack,  and  it  reminds  me  of 
when  I was  a boy  and  went  to  Sunday  school, 
for  we  used  to  sing  that  very  same  hymn 

there.” 

“Did  you?  Why,  so  used  we,”  joined  in 
Jem.  “Ah,  that  was  when  we  were  good  little 

34 


THE  GREAT  CHANGE. 


boys,”  and  Jem  gave  emphasis  to  the  word 
good,  as  he  spoke. 

The  children  went  on  singing  the  well- 
known  hymn : 

“ I think,  when  I read  that  sweet  story  of  old, 

When  Jesus  was  here  among  men, 

How  He  called  little  children  as  lambs  to  His  fold, 

1 should  like  to  have  been  with  Him  then.” 

We  three  young  men  stopped  until  the  hymn 
was  finished,  and  then  resumed  our  ramble; 
but  although  the  sound  of  the  children’s  voices 
soon  died  on  our  ears,  they  still  lingered  in 
the  heart  of  at  least  one  of  our  number. 

“Say  George,  old  fellow,”  said  Jack  pres- 
ently, “what’s  the  matter  with  you?  Why,  you 
were  all  alive  just  now,  jumping  over  those 
tombstones  in  that  graveyard,  and  now  you 
haven’t  anything  to  say.” 

“Well,  Jack,  I don’t  know  that  there  is  any- 
thing particular  the  matter  with  me  in  one 
way,  but  those  children  singing  that  old  hymn 
have  made  me  think  of  old  times  and  of  those 
who  are  gone,  and  it  makes  me  feel  bad  to 
think  bow  I’ve  been  ‘carrying  on’  these  past 
few  years,  and  what  the  end  is  going  to  be.” 

“Why,  Jem,”  cried  Jack,  “Here’s  George, 
going  to  turn  parson.  I think  we’d  better  call 
him  ‘Holy  Joe’  (a  nickname  for  a ship’s  chap- 
lain) right  off.” 

“Well,  I’m  blowed  if  I wouldn’t  like  to  see 
him  with  a white  choker  on.  Say,  I suppose 
you’ll  cut  us  poor  fellows  now?”  queried  Jem. 

“No,  mates,  I don’t  mean  anything  of  that 
sort;  but  I’ll  tell  you  what  I’m  sure  of;  it 
would  be  better  for  all  of  us  if  we’d  kept  to  the 
good  old  book.” 


35 


“tell  them.” 

“There  you  are,  Jem.  Didn’t  I tell  you  so? 
Don’t  you  think  he’d  make  a good  parson?” 

“Well,  Jack,  perhaps  it  would  have  been 
better  foi  us  all  to  stick  to  the  old  book  for 
that  matter,”  said  Jem.  “I  know  I’d  have 
been  a good  deal  better  off  now  if  I had,  for 
I should  have  my  position  still,  which  I lost 
through  the  drink.  But  what’s  the  good  of 
crying  over  spilt  milk?  Let’s  go  in  and  get 
a good  glass  of  ‘old  Jamaica,’  and  bury  the 
past.” 

“So  say  I,  Jem,”  responded  Jack.  “Come 
on,  George.  Oh!  I forgot,  though.  I sup- 
pose you’re  too  good  for  us  fellows  to  associate 
with  now?” 

“No,  Jack,  old  fellow,  you  ought  to  know 
me  better  than  that.  I’ll  go  in  wdth  you,  bul 
I’m  not  going  to  take  anything  stronger  than 
lemonade.” 

“Lemonade?”  queried  Jack.  “Why,  you’ll 
get  as  lantern-jawed  as  a parson;  besides,  now, 
I’ll  show  you  a trick  on  that.” 

“Here,  missus,  give  me  a pint  of  ale,  will 
you,  and  a bottle  of  lemonade  for  this  fellow, 
and  let’s  see,  you'll  have  old  Jamaica,  Jem?” 

“Yes,  indeed,  don’t  give  me  any  of  your 
watery  stuff,”  responded  Jem. 

“Now,  here  you  are,  George.  I’ll  show  you 
where  you  come  out  on  the  lemonade  busi- 
ness.” " So  saying.  Jack  proceeded  to  pom- 
out  the  bottle  of  lemonade,  which  only  filled 
one  glass,  and  cost  fourpence  (eight  cents), 
while  Jack’s  pint  of  ale  only  cost  three  pence 
and  filled  two  glasses.  The  landlady  joined 
Jack  and  Jem  in  the  hearty  laugh  which  fol- 
lowed the  conclusive  demonstration. 

36 


THE  GREAT  CHANGE. 


“Well,”  said  she,  “to  think  of  a man-o’-war 
man  turning  teetotal!  Why,  who  ever  heard 
of  such  a thing?  I should  "think  you’d  better 
take  the  young  man  home  to  his  mother.” 

A reply  was  ready,  but  it  failed  expression 
at  the  mention  of  the  last  word,  “mother,”  and 
I finished  my  lemonade  and  left  the  house  in 
silence.  It  was  a sore  trial,  and  my  first,  but 
God  helped  me  to  bear  it. 

The  conversation  that  followed  was  not  very 
interesting  as  the  three  of  us  resumed  our 
walk.  “Well,”  said  Jack,  “I  shall  give  him  a 
week  to  keep  up  this  business,  Jem.” 

“All  right,  Tack,  I'll  try  it  for  a week,  any- 
how,  and  see  how  I get  on,”  I replied;  “but, 
bows,  I know  I shan’t  be  any  the  worse  off  for 
making  the  attempt.” 

Several  years  after  the  foregoing  event 
took  place  I met  the  man  who  was  superin- 
tendent of  that  Sunday  school  at  that  time. 
We  were  three  hundred  miles  from  Queenboro 
when  we  met;  but  he  said,  “Next  Sunday  is 
our  anniversary,  and  I shall  have  something 
to  tell  them  all,”  for  they  wouldn’t  hear  of  my 
not  being  there  at  the  anniversary.  Some  day 
I hope  to  visit  the  old  school,  though  I fear 
it  may  long  ago  have  disappeared. 


37 


‘Three-Decker,”  lying  in  Portsmouth  Harbor,  England. 


DARKNESS  AND  DAWN. 


Chapter  IX. 

Darkness  and  Dawn. 

That  night  the  writer  did  not,  could  not, 
sleep.  The  twenty-one  years  he  had  lived 
crowded  upon  his  mind  and  kept  him  awake. 

What  would  he  have  given  to  have  heard 
the  voice,  or  seen  the  face,  of  his  beloved 
mother  just  once — she  who  died  when  he  was 
but  a boy  of  thirteen.  He  had  passed  through 
the  terrible  experiences  narrated  previously, 
and  his  heart  had  remained  unaffected,  but 
now  it  seemed  as  if  it  would  break.  As  on  his 
knees,  with  many  tears,  he  sought  and  ob- 
tained mercy,  the  thought  came  into  his  mind: 
“Oh!  that  mother  could  know  of  this  change; 
what  would  I not  give  or  do?”  Then  he  re- 
membered (yes,  did  not  Jesus  say,  “He,  the 
Spirit,  shall  bring  to  your  remembrance  what- 
soever I have  said  unto  you”)  the  words  of 
Him  who  had  sought  and  saved  him.  “I  say 
unto  you  there  is  joy  in  the  presence  of  the  an- 
gels .of  God  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth,” 
and  a feeling  of  satisfaction  stole  over  him  as 
he  reasoned:  “Well,  if  that’s  true,  and  it  must 
be,  then  there’s  joy  over  me;  and  if  mother  is 
in  heaven,  and  I believe  she  is,  she  knows  of 
the  change.  Could  not  the  Lord  tell  her  of  it,” 
he  thought,  “for  He  knows  how  she  has 
prayed,  and  He  has  answered  her  prayers,” 
and  it  seemed  a very  natural  conclusion  to 
come  to,  and  on  this  he  rested,  and  still  rests, 
39 


“tell  them.” 

looking  forward  to  the  day  when  mother  and 
child  shall  meet  again. 

What  a change  was  now  experienced! 

It  was  as  when  a tempestuous  hurricane  has 
swept  all  before  it,  and  there  follows  in  its 
wake  “a  great  calm.”  Such  was  the  inward 
experience  of  the  writer,  but  he  soon  found 
that  peace  with  God  means  war  with  sin  and 
Satan,  and  while  calm  and  quiet  reign  within, 
storms  may,  and  often  do,  rage  without. 

He  knew,  or  guessed  pretty  well,  what  he 
would  have  to  face  from  his  companions  on 
board  ship,  and  he  was  not  wrong  in  his  con- 
clusions. 

The  news  of  my  having  turned  “psalm 
singer”  had  preceded  my  arrival  on  board  on 
Monday  morning,  and  all  my  shipmates  were 
on  the  lookout  and  anxious  to  see  how  I 
looked,  little  knowing  how  I felt.  Arriving 
on  board,  the  jeering  began.  “Hello,  George, 
old  fellow;  say,  they  tell  us  you’ve  been  and 
got  converted.  Let’s  look  at  you.  Hold  up, 
old  fellow,  and  give  us  a bit  of  a sermon,  may- 
be you’d  convert  some  of  us.  Try  your  hand! 
Only  I'm  thinking  you'd  have  a tough  job  on 
me,”  said  one. 

The  dame  of  persecution  rose  higher  and 
higher  as  “the  great  change”  became  the  talk 
of  the  one  thousand  men  on  board  the  ship. 
Often  did  the  writer  have  to  go  down  to  his 
storeroom,  in  the  hold  of  the  vessel,  to  get 
wisdom  and  strength,  and  thus  "obtain  help 
from  God”  to  stand  it  all. 

For  three  months  I had  not  a single  fellow 
Christian  to  go  to,  or  to  write  to,  on  board 
the  vessel  or  on  shore.  My  poor  father  count- 
40 


DARKNESS  AND  DAWN. 


ed  me  as  one  gone  mad,  when  in  truth,  as  I 
felt,  I had  only  just  recovered  my  senses.  All 
sorts  of  means  were  used  to  draw  or  to  drive 
the  new  convert  back  again  into  the  service  of 
his  old  master,  but,  thank  God,  it  was  in  vain. 

One  day  one  of  my  shipmates  loaned  me  a 
number  of  infidel  tracts  and  copies  of  Brad- 
laugh’s  paper.  The  next  day,  during  dinner 
hour,  he  asked  me  if  I had  done  with  them.  I 
replied  that  I had.  “Well,  did  you  read  them 
through?”  “No,”  I replied.  “1  read  all  I 
wanted  to.”  “Oh,”  he  said,  laughing,  and 
thus  drew  the  attention  of  others,  who  gath- 
ered around  in  a crowd.  “Just  as  I thought; 
you  were  afraid  if  you  read  those  bad  books 
the  devil  would  run  away  with  you.” 

“Do  you  think  so?”  was  the  response.  “Then 
I’ll  read  every  word  in  them  before  I give  them 
back  to  you,  if  you'll  let  me.” 

“Oh,  yes,  but  you’ll  soon  find  they’ll  knock 
all  this  religion  out  of  you.” 

“Well,  we’ll  see,”  was  the  rejoinder. 

A large  number  of  the  crew  having  gath- 
ered around  my  assailant,  who  was  a much 
older  man  than  myself,  he  deemed  it  too  good 
an  opportunity  to  lose,  and  so  “opened  fire” 
on' the  vcung  convert. 

It  was  my  first  experience  of  the  kind,  but 
I was  able  to  grapple  with  my  assailant  to  the 
astonishment  no  less  of  myself  than  of  our 
shipmates.  Before  “the  change”  I had  for 
my  “chum”  a pronounced  infidel,  who  tried 
hard  to  win  me  over,  but  after  a long  walk 
and  talk  one  day  on  board  the  ship  we  ended 
up  thus: 

“Now,  look  here,  Steve,  I’ve  heard  all  that 


41 


“tell  them.” 

you’ve  got  to  say  on  your  side,  and  the  whole 
thing  lies  here:  If  you  are  right  and  I am 

wrong,  I know  this,  I shall  have  had  the  best 
time  in  this  world,  and  if  there’s  nothing  more, 
as  you  say,  why  I shan’t  have  any  time  to  re- 
pent my  choice,  shall  I?” 

“Well,  I suppose  not,”  was  his  reply.  “But, 
Steve,  suppose  I am  right  and  you  are  wrong, 
where  will  you  be?” 

There  was  no  reply  to  this  and  we  parted. 

Strangely  enough,  Steve  had  to  sneak  out  of 
that  ship  in  the  darkness  of  early  morning, 
when  his  time  of  service  had  expired,  because 
of  the  people  who  were  after  him  for  money 
due  them;  not,  however,  before  he  had  turned 
upon  his  former  chum  and  companion  and 
had  tried  hard,  but  in  vain,  to  get  him  “re- 
duced” from  the  position  he  held. 

Three  years  after  (July,  1867),  when  I joined 
H.  M.  Ship  Crocodile,  a new  vessel  employed 
on  the  Indian  troop  service,  one  of  the  first 
men  I met  on  board  was  my  old  chum,  Steve. 
But  he  was  still  the  servant  of  Satan,  and  a few 
months  later  was  tried  by  court-martial  for 
robbery  and  sentenced  to  eighteen  months’ 
imprisonment,  and  was  dismissed  from  the 
navy  with  disgrace  after  sixteen  years  of  ser- 
vice. 

He  left  a wife  and  young  babe,  and  it  was 
given  to  his  old  companion  to  aid  them  and 
really  save  them  from  starvation  by  getting 
up  a subscription  from  his  shipmates  on  their 
behalf. 


42 


FIRST  FRUITS. 


Chapter  X. 

First  Fruits. 

Having  somewhat  realized  the  advantages 
of  living  a Christian  life  for  myself,  I very  nat- 
urally desired  that  others,  my  friends  and  ship- 
mates, might  see  what  I had  seen  and  know 
what  I was  then  enjoying. 

This  led  to  the  putting  forth  of  effort  on 
their  behalf,  in  the  doing  of  which  I had  no 
one  to  advise  with,  except  Him  whom  I now 
knew  as  my  Friend.  Perhaps  it  was  all  the 
better  that  I had  no  earthly  friends  with  whom 
to  confer,  as  it  caused  me  to  go  more  fre- 
quently to  the  One  who  has  promised  to  give 
wisdom  to  all  who  seek  it  at  His  hands. 

Among  other  ways  of  doing  good,  I re- 
solved to  obtain  and  distribute  some  reading 
matter  among  my  shipmates.  Writing  to  Mr. 
T.  B.  Smithies,  the  editor  of  the  “British 
Workman,”  and  to  the  Religious  Tract  So- 
ciety, I obtained,  at  some  reduction,  a month- 
ly supply  of  papers  for  this  purpose. 

One  day  a large  package  came  to  the  ship, 
and  upon  my  being  called  to  receive  it,  the 
officer  asked:  “What  have  you  got  there?” 

“Books  and  papers,  sir,”  I replied. 

“What  are  you  going  to  do  with  them?” 
“Give  them  away  to  the  fellows  on  board.” 
“Well,  but  what  for — to  try  and  make  them 
religious?” 

“I  hope  so,  sir.” 


43 


“tell  them.” 


“Well,  now,  who  sends  them?” 

“Friends  in  London,  sir.” 

“Yes,  I know;  but  who  pays  for  them?” 
“Well,  sir,  I do,  if  I must  tell  you.” 

“And  how  much  do  they  cost?” 

“A  pint  of  ale  and  half  an  ounce  of  tobacco 
a day,  sir.” 

“Why,  that’s — let  me  see — five  pence  a 
day.” 

“Yes,  sir,  about  that.” 

“Well,  go  ahead;  I don't  suppose  you'll  do 
any  harm.” 

“I  hope  not,  sir,”  and  the  conversation 
ended. 

The  vessel  I was  serving  in  was  Guard  Ship 
of  the  Reserve,  having  the  care  of  some  seven- 
ty large  and  small  vessels  lying  up  the  river, 
the  crews  of  which  belonged  to  the  “Cum- 
berland.” When  sick  they  came  under  my 
care,  and  on  the  first  day  of  each  month  they 
all  came  down  the  river  in  boats  to  “the  big 
ship”  to  get  their  pay. 

On  these  days  might  be  seen  a “hand”  from 
each  vessel  calling  at  the  door  of  the  Sick 
Bay,  or  ship’s  hospital,  for  the  usual  package 
of  papers,  the  plan  being  to  wrap  up  several  of 
different  kinds  into  a “British  Workman,” 
which  was  addressed  “All  Hands,  H.  M.  S. 
Undaunted,”  etc. 

When  the  men  had  read  the  papers,  they 
pasted  the  pictures  up  in  their  cabins  and  were 
thus  reminded  of  the  stories  they  had  read. 
“Buy  Your  Own  Cherries”  and  “Jack  and  His 
Hard  Lump”  were  conspicuous  among  the 
pictures  adorning  these  art  galleries. 

About  this  time  the  late  Admiral  Sir  W. 


44 


FIRST  FRUITS. 


King  Hall  joined  as  captain,  and,  being  him- 
self a total  abstainer,  gave  countenance  to  the 
work  I was  doing,  and  having  himself  signed 
a pledge  book,  I entered  my  name  and  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  many  others  to  do  so. 

The  poor  fellows  were  often  getting  into 
trouble  through  drink,  and  when  brought  to 
the  Sick  Bay  for  treatment  I was  enabled  to 
advise  with  them  opportunely.  So  many  were 
thus  led  to  change  their  ways  of  living  that  it 
became  a saying  among  the  men:  “Well,  if 
you’re  going  into  the  Sick  Bay,  you’ll  get  con- 
verted before  you  come  out,”  and  so  God 
helped  me  to  help  others.  Later  on,  a few 
were  gathered  together  in  a spare  cabin,  and 
there  we  sang  and  prayed  and  read  the  Scrip- 
tures, “which  are  able  to  make  us  wise  unto 
salvation.”  Many  happy  hours  were  thus 
spent  with  the  half  dozen  or  more  who  met 
together  in  this  manner. 


45 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  XI. 

First  Friends. 

If  there  was  one  thing  more  than  another 
that  I longed  for,  it  was  Christian  friendship. 
As  already  stated,  I had  not  a single  friend 
likeminded  on  board  or  on  shore;  and  to  my 
poor  father  it  all  seemed  foolishness,  even  as 
it  had  been  to  his  son,  and  he  said,  “He’s  gone 
mad.” 

One  day  I heard  that  a Scripture  reader  had 
been  stationed  at  the  port,  and  that  he  had 
been  doing  on  shore  what  I had  been  trying  to 
do  on  board,  viz.,  giving  away  tracts  and 
little  books  to  the  men,  so  that  they  said, 
“Now  we’re  between  two  fires.  If  we  stay  on 
board,  we  ‘get  it,’  and  if  we  go  on  shore  we 
‘get  it.’  ” Yes,  thank  God,  many  did  “get  it,” 
i.  e.,  the  gift  of  God. 

When  I first  heard  of  this  friend,  it  was  in- 
deed joyful  news,  and  I could  not  but  feel  that 
God  had  answered  my  prayei , and  I longed  to 
meet  him,  who  had  been  sent  to  my  help. 

One  evening  I went  on  shore,  hoping,  if 
possible,  to  meet  this  friend.  I had  expected 
to  see  him  on  the  pier  when  I landed,  as  some 
of  the  men  had  told  me  he  was  often  there,  but 
he  was  not  to  be  found. 

That  evening  I entered  a church,  and,  sin- 

46 


FIRST  FRIENDS. 


gularly  enough,  was  shown  into  a pew  where 
s^t  the  very  man  I was  looking  for.  Each  of 
us  looked  at  the  other,  and  by  some  strange 
intuition  each  seemed  to  recognize  in  the  other 
tiie  one  for  whom  he  was  looking.  Some  of 
the  men  had  told  the  Scripture  reader  that  the 
sick  berth  steward  had  “turned  religious,”  and 
was  trying  to  turn  all  the  other  fellows. 

After  the  service  this  new-found  friend  took 
me  to  his  house,  and  gave  me  some  books,  and 
it  was  with  difficulty  that  we  parted  at  a late 
hour  of  the  night.  There  weie  many  things 
to  tell  and  to  ask,  and  plans  to  be  talked  over 
as  to  further  work  for  God,  and  each  delighted 
so  in  the  other’s  company  that  we  were  as  old 
friends.  Moreover,  the  reader  had  once  been 
in  the  navy  himself,  and  could  therefore  the 
better  sympathize  with  me. 

Shortly  after  this  occurrence,  I was  led  to 
gather  together  a few  of  the  poor  children  and 
people  down  one  of  the  back  slums  of  Sheer- 
ness, at  which  port  my  ship  lay. 

Hiring  a large  room  from  one  of  the  resi- 
dents, to  overcome  the  excuses  for  non-attend- 
ance at  church  for  want  of  good  clothes,  and 
inability  to  leave  home  or  to  take  the  children, 
I “gathered  them  in,”  and,  armed  with  a Bible 
and  a concertina,  started  to  work.  On  the 
second  Sunday  evening  it  was  found  that  the 
room  could  not  hold  all  the  people  and  chil- 
dren, too,  so  the  latter  came  from  six  to  seven 
o’clock,  and  adults  from  seven  to  eight. 

It  was  very  hard  work  alone,  and  prayer 
47 


“tell  them.” 

went  up  for  help,  and  it  came.  The  Scripture 
reader  told  some  of  his  friends  about  me,  and 
they  desired  me  to  call  and  “take  tea”  with 
them,  which  I did,  and  was  given  a cordial 
welcome. 

As  we  were  gathered  around  the  tea  table,  I 
told  them  of  my  efforts  among  the  poor  down 
town,  and  was  gladly  surprised  by  their  offers 
to  help  me. 

On  the  following  Sunday,  Mr.  Lawes  and 
two  other  members  of  his  family  were  by  my 
side  at  the  work. 

Not  only  did  I find  help  for  the  Sunday 
school,  which  soon  grew  to  have  one  hundred 
and  fifty  scholars,  and  subsequently  develcped 
two  branches,  but  in  this  home  I first  met  the 
one  who  became  my  devoted  wife  and  loving 
companion  and  helper  for  more  than  twenty- 
one  years.  In  this  fact  there  seemed  to  be  a 
fulfillment  of  the  promise,  “Seek  first  the  king- 
dom of  God,  and  all  other  things  shall  be 
added.” 

“ Make  you  His  service  your  delight, 

He’ll  make  your  wants  His  care.” 

One  of  the  branch  schools  referred  to  was 
established  by  R.  G.  Hobbes,  Esq.,  the  cashier 
of  Her  Majesty’s  dockyard  at  Sheerness.  He 
was  a most  devoted  worker,  and,  as  Superin- 
tendent of  the  school  he  formed,  made  it  a 
great  success.  He  is  now  residing  in  London, 
long  since  retired  from  the  government  service. 

On  July  17th,  1866,  I was  married  to  Miss 
48 


FIRST  FRIENDS. 


Anetta  Marion  Tringham;  and,  as  I look  back 
over  the  more  than  thirty  years  that  have  since 
passed,  my  heart  is  filled  with  gratitude  to 
Him  who  gave  her  to  me  in  answer  to  prayer. 
For  two  young  people  to  each  give  themselves 
to  the  other  in  fullest  surrender,  confidence 
and  love,  is  a joy  that  cannot  be  written;  but 
this  can  be,  and  is  intensified  greatly,  when 
each  also  realizes  that  the  other  is  “a  gift  from 
God.” 

Oh ! how  much  some  people  miss  in  this  re- 
gard, because  they  will  rather  choose  for 
themselves  than  say  and  pray,  “Choose  Thou 
for  me.”  Can  it  be  that  God  is  lacking  in 
either  wisdom,  love  or  power? 

If  He  has  the  wisdom  to  choose  the  best, 
and  the  love  that  seeks  the  best  for  His  loved 
ones,  and  further,  has  the  power  to  accomplish 
and  bring  about  whatsoever  His  love  and  wis- 
dom dictates,  why  not  let  Him,  why  not  urge 
Him,  to  constantly  “order  our  steps?”  Cor- 
rect stepping  will  make,  must  make,  a success- 
ful journey. 


49 


Our  son  Harry,  and  his  parents — May,  1869. 


A MARVELLOUS  ANSWER. 


Chapter  XII. 

A Marvellous  Answer. 

In  August,  1867,  I joined  H.  M.  ship, 
Crocodile.  She  was  one  of  five  new  vessels 
constructed  for  the  Indian  troop  service. 
The  Suez  Canal  was  not  opened  until  1870, 
and  during  the  three  years  previous  the  Croco- 
dile and  Serapis  ran  between  Great  Britain 
and  Egypt,  while  the  Jumna , Malabar  and 
Euphrates,  having  gone  around  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope,  took  the  troops  from  Suez  to 
India  and  vice  versa. 

In  January,  1868,  one  of  the  most  marvel- 
lous answers  to  prayer  was  experienced.  My 
wife  was  lying  very  ill  with  pneumonia  when 
the  Crocodile  sailed  for  Queenstown  to  take  in 
troops.  I was  permitted  to  stay  with  her  un- 
til two  hours  of  the  time  of  sailing  from  Ports- 
mouth. As  we  said  “Good  bye,”  it  was  with 
a peculiar  feeling  of  dread  that  we  were  taking 
a final  farewell  of  each  other,  as  the  physician 
in  attendance  gave  but  faint  hope  of  her  re- 
covery. 

Our  dear  friend,  Mrs.  Ferrins,  whose  home 
we  then  shared,  devotedly  cared  for  the  sick 
one.  Upon  leaving,  I said  to  her,  “We  sail 
in  two  hours  for  Queenstown,  and  stay  but 
an  hour  or  two  there,  so  there  will  be  little 

51 


“teli.  them.” 

Use  writing  me  there;  please  write  me  at 
Malta,  our  next  port  of  call.” 

That  night  we  encountered  a fearful  gale, 
and  the  vessel  at  one  time  very  nearly  cap- 
sized, being  empty  of  troops  and  baggage. 

The  captain  ran  the  ship  into  Torbay, 
through  stress  of  weather,  and  anchored  there 
about  midnight.  An  hour  later,  off  came  the 
coast  guard  boat  on  inspection.  As  the  boat 
came  alongside,  the  only  one  that  did  so  that 
night,  I snatched  up  an  envelope  and  penciled 
a few  words  on  a sheet  of  paper,  “ Have 
put  into  Torbay  through  stress  of  weather. 
Write  me  to  Queenstown  as  soon  as  you  get 
this.”  Giving  one  of  the  crew  sixpence  to 
mail  it  soon,  I hoped  it  might  reach  in  time. 

We  left  Portsmouth  on  Tuesday,  but  did 
not  reach  Queenstown  until  Friday,  and  the 
ship  was  delayed  “waiting  for  troops,”  so  that 
she  did  not  sail  until  Sunday  afternoon,  three 
days  late. 

On  Saturday  I received  a letter  from  my 
friend,  Mrs.  Ferrins,  stating  that  in  all  prob- 
ability my  dear  one  would  be  “gone”  before 
that  could  reach  me,  and  asking  directions  as 
to  funeral,  etc.  That  night  it  need  not  be 
wondered  at  that  I could  not  sleep,  wonder 
rather  if  I could.  How  I pleaded  for  life  to 
be  spared,  and  how  terrible  it  all  seemed,  how 
dark  and  hopeless,  and  yet — Yes,  “All 
things  are  possible  to  Him,”  “I  know  that 
Thou  canst  do  anything,”  said  Job,  and  I said 
52 


A MARVELLOUS  ANSWER. 


it  over  until  I believed  and  claimed  it  too. 
One  of  the  seamen,  a poor  Irishman,  who  was 
under  my  care,  expressed  his  sympathy,  and 
in  his  blunt  way  suggested  that  I ask  for  leave 
to  go  home. 

“Why,  man,”  I said,  “what  are  you  think- 
ing about?  Who  ever  heard  of  such  a thing? 
Why,  even  the  captain  could  not  get  such  a 
privilege.” 

But  his  words  “stuck”  to  me,  and  prayer 
took  shape  accordingly.  Could  not  God  do 
even  that,  the  unheard-of,  the  seemingly  im- 
possible? Yes,  of  course  He  could,  butwould 
He?  “Lord,  if  Thou  wilt,  Thou  canst.”  And 
Thou  wilt  if  Thou  seest  it  best  to  do  so.  At 
last  morning  came,  and  with  it  the  usual  hos- 
pital duties.  When  the  Staff  Surgeon  came 
on  his  “rounds”  to  the  sick  bay,  he  noticed 
that  something  was  the  matter.  Like  the 
king  who  read  the  countenance  of  Nehemiah, 
he  read  mine.  And  like  Nehemiah  I,  too, 
lifted  my  heart  to  God,  and  spoke,  not  to  the 
king,  but  to  the  doctor. 

I felt  unable  to  bring  my  mind  to  ask  per- 
mission to  go  back  home,  but  I had  prayed 
that  if  it  was  to  be,  God  would  make  the  doc- 
tor speak  of  it  first,  and  to  my  great  relief,  but 
intense  astonishment,  he  did  so,  and  said, 
“You  could  not  do  any  good  if  you  were  there, 
and  in  all  probability  she  has  already  gone.” 
I caught  at  his  words  as  a dying  man  at  a 
straw,  and  followed  them  up  by  strong  plead- 
53 


“tell  them.” 

ings  now,  until  he  seemed  to  wish  he  had  not 
so  spoken.  The  doctor  conferred  with  the 
captain,  and  as  the  big  ship  sailed  off,  I 
landed  on  the  shore,  homeward  bound,  with 
mingled  feelings  of  peculiar  joy  and  gratitude. 
How  long  time  and  distance  seemed  in  that 
anxious  journey.  Never  did  steamer  cross 
the  channel  so  slowly,  or  train  travel  so  tardily 
as  then.  I sent  a telegram  as  soon  as  I 
landed,  “Expect  to  be  home  Tuesday  morn- 
ing.” 

That  word  was  as  life  to  the  dead.  It  was 
at  first  withheld  for  fear  of  shock  and  collapse, 
but  tenderly  and  cautiously  was  the  news  im- 
parted, and  hope  was  rekindled. 

Arriving  in  Gosport,  I walked  down  the 
main  street  on  which  the  house  was  situate, 
and  from  the  opposite  side  sought  the  earliest 
glimpse  of  the  windows  for  the  signal  of  life 
or  death.  Thank  God,  the  window  blinds 
were  not  drawn  down — it  was  still  life. 

Six  weeks  passed  ere  the  Crocodile  returned, 
and  I again  went  on  board  to  receive  the  warm 
congratulations  of  my  shipmates,  and  to  hear 
their  expressions  of  wonderment  as  to  how  it 
all  happened.  I could  only  say,  “I  prayed, 
and  God  answered.” 


54 


HINDRANCES. 


Chapter  XIII. 

Hindrances. 

It  is  one  of  the  strange  experiences  in  life 
that  whereas  a man  may  continue  in  evil  with- 
out incurring  much,  if  any,  opposition  from 
his  fellows,  no  sooner  does  he  try  to  serve  God 
and  do  right  than  he  has  to  bear  persecution. 
And  yet  it  is  nothing  new,  for  He,  the  very 
Son  of  God,  who  lived,  and  spake,  and  died,  as 
never  man  did,  was  persecuted  even  to  the 
death;  and  He  it  was  who  said,  “The  servant 
is  not  greater  than  his  Lord;  if  they  have  pec- 
secuted  Me,  they  will  persecute  you  also;”  and 
further,  it  is  written,  “All  they  who  will  live 
godly  in  Christ  Jesus  shall  suffer  persecution.” 

In  May,  1868,  the  Crocodile  was  lying  in  the 
harbor  of  Alexandria,  waiting  for  troops  to 
come  on  board  from  Suez,  on  their  way  home 
from  the  Abyssinian  War. 

After  many  days  of  waiting,  the  troops  ar- 
rived, and  the  ship  sailed  on  a Monday  after- 
noon. Most  of  the  soldiers  had  already  served 
several  years  in  India  before  going  to  Abys- 
sinia, and  the  appearance  of  their  clothing  and 
accoutrements, as  well  as  their  weather-beaten, 
bronzed  faces,  told  of  the  hardships  they  had 
encountered. 

As  I watched  their  arrival  on  board,  I deter- 
55 


“tell  them.” 


mined  to  try  and  do  something  for  their  good ; 
accordingly,  the  same  evening,  having  first 
sought  and  obtained  “help  of  God,”  I came  on 
deck,  Bible  in  hand,  and  asked  some  of  those 
standing  by  if  they  would  like  to  hear  some- 
thing out  of  the  “good  Book.”  The  question 
was  met  by  an  inquiring,  incredulous  look, 
which  seemed  to  say,  as  far  as  I could  read  it, 
“Well,  yes;  but  what  does  this  mean?  We 
always  thought  sailors  were  such  drinking, 
swearing  fellows  that  we  can't  understand 
this.”  Thus  interpreting  their  looks,  I began 
to  read  about  soldiers  and  sailors  as  spoken  of 
in  the  Gospels.  The  healing  of  the  centurion’s 
servant,  and  the  calling  of  Peter,  James  and 
John,  afforded  good  proof  of  the  possibility  of 
soldiers  and  sailors  being  Christians. 

Half  an  hour  passed  in  this  manner,  and  the 
group  of  twenty  had  grown  to  ten  times  the 
size.  When  I had  finished,  there  was  a gen- 
eral expression  of  approval,  which  took  shape 
as  follows:  “Bravo,  sir;  come  up  again.” 

The  following  evenings  were  spent  in  a 
similar  manner,  except  that  on  Saturday  I 
read  to  them,  “Buy  your  own  cherries,”  which 
evoked  rounds  of  applause  and  laughter.  The 
very  mention  of  “cherries”  seemed  to  make 
their  mouths  water,  and  long  to  once  more 
taste  some.  Many  of  the  men  had  been  from 
home  fifteen  years  and  longer,  having  been 
engaged  in  the  Indian  Mutiny  of  1857. 

There  were  about  twelve  hundred  troops  on 
board,  and  as  each  day  diew  to  a close  they 
56 


HINDRANCES. 


would  gather  on  the  upper  deck,  lean  over  the 
rail,  and  watch  the  vessel’s  progress;  or  talk 
in  groups  over  their  past  adventures  and  the 
battles  they  had  fought;  of  their  comrades 
who  came  out  with  them,  but  who  would 
never  return;  and  of  the  welcome  that  awaited 
themselves  at  home. 

Some,  indeed,  spoke  of  relatives  and  friends 
who  had  gone,  whose  resting  places  only  re- 
mained, but  even  these  they  longed  to  see;  so 
that  their  joys  were — as  all  earthly  joys  are — 
mingled  with  sorrow. 

Cn  Sunday  evening,  as  I passed  along  the 
deck,  in  the  performance  of  some  duty,  some 
of  the  soldiers  asked  me  if  I was  not  coming 
up,  as  they  were  “all  waiting.”  As  soon  as 
needful  duties  were  attended  to  connected  with 
the  care  of  the  sick,  I went  up,  taking  with  me 
some  small  hymn  books  and  my  concertina. 
The  books  were  shared  among  the  three  or 
four  hundred  standing  around,  and  some  of 
the  old  hymns  were  called  for  as  the  men  were 
encouraged  to  name  their  favorites.  “This 
reminds  me  of  the  old  home,”  said  one,  as  he 
brushed  away  a tear.  “I  remember,”  said 
another,  when  they  had  sung, 

“ Here  we  suffer  grief  and  pain; 

Here  we  meet  to  part  again; 

In  heaven  we  part  no  more,” 

“how  we  used  to  sing  that  old  hymn  when  I 
was  a boy.”  When  they  were  told  that  that 
hymn  was  written  by  a British  soldier  then 
living  in  London,  they  could  not  but  cheer. 

57 


“tell  them.” 

The  chapter  read  was  that  containing  the 
account  of  Paul’s  defense  before  Agrippa.  I 
had  read  down  to  the  words,  “Almost  thou 
persuadest  me  to  be  a Christian,”  and  was 
commenting  upon  them,  when  the  Master-at- 
Arms  (corresponding  to  Sergeant  Major  in 
the  army)  came  to  the  edge  of  the  crowd,  and, 
beckoning  me  to  him,  told  me  that  the  captain 
had  sent  him  to  stop  the  meeting  at  once. 

A few  minutes  before  this,  the  regimental 
brass  band  had  come  on  deck,  and  stationing 
themselves  near  the  group  who  were  listening 
to  me,  they  struck  up  some  secular  airs,  a 
most  unusual  thing  to  do  on  a Sunday  even- 
ing. As  they  did  so,  the  men  crowded  in 
closer,  and,  as  I hesitated  somewhat,  they  said 
with  one  voice,  “Go  on,  sir,  we  can  hear  you; 
never  mind  the  band.”  When  the  captain’s 
message  was  delivered,  I returned  back  to  the 
centre  of  my  astonished  congregation  and 
said,  “Men,  I have  received  orders  from  the 
captain  to  desist  at  once;  as  we  are  in  the  ser- 
vice, of  course  we  must  obey;  I can  only, 
therefore,  wish  you  ‘Good  night,’  thanking 
yon  for  your  kind  attention.” 

There  was  a very  distinct  murmur  of  disap- 
proval among  the  men,  many  of  whom  were 
Irishmen,  the  regiment  (33d)  being  a Catholic 
regiment.  One  said,  “Well,  that’s  a strange 
business,  a fellow  might  swear  and  curse  and 
tell  lies  all  he  liked,  and  they  wouldn’t  stop 
him,  and  shure  the  steward  was  only  giving  us 
‘the  Word  of  God,’  and  they  stops  him.” 

58 


HINDRANCES. 


As  a proof  of  the  truth  of  this  assertion,  the 
following  is  narrated:  One  night,  on  the  voy- 
age out  to  Egypt,  a number  of  the  soldiers  on 
their  way  to  India  engaged  in  a “swearing 
match.”  Some  were  lying  in  their  hammocks, 
others  on  their  beds  spread  upon  the  deck. 
One  after  another  swore  the  most  fearful  oaths 
possible.  Presently  one  man  lying  in  his 
hammock,  so  exceeded  all  the  others  that  he 
was  readily  proclaimed  the  champion,  and  so 
badly  did  he  curse  that  even  his  competitors 
bade  him  stop. 

The  following  morning,  as  he  turned  out  of 
his  hammock,  he  fell  helpless  to  the  deck. 
Some  of  his  comrades  came  to  his  assistance, 
and  on  asking  him  what  was  the  matter,  he 
replied,  “This  is  for  last  night’s  work.”  After 
uttering  these  words,  his  speech  left  him,  one 
side  of  his  body  being  completely  paralyzed! 
His  comrades  carried  him  to  the  ship’s  hospi- 
tal, and  he  was  returned  home  and  sent  to 
Netley  Hospital  for  treatment.  On  the  voy- 
age home,  I rejoice  to  say,  the  man  gave  evi- 
dence of  conversion. 


59 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  XIV. 

The  Victim  Victorious. 

On  the  Sunday  night  referred  to  I had 
scarcely  reached  the  hospital  quarters  when 
the  master-at-arms  made  his  appearance  and 
stated  that  the  captain  desired  to  see  me  on 
the  quarter-deck  at  once.  I had  not  yet  re- 
covered from  the  shock  of  indignation  caused 
by  the  order  to  desist,  but  was,  so  to  speak, 
“boiling  over,”  yet  struggling  to  “keep  down” 
my  feelings. 

As  I walked  along  the  deck  I lifted  my 
heart  to  the  God  I was  trying  to  serve  and 
prayed,  “O  Lord,  keep  the  door  of  my  lips 
that  I offend  not  with  my  tongue.”  • For  fully 
fifteen  minutes  did  the  captain  try  to  get  me 
to  do  so,  but  failed.  I explained  that  I had 
only  sought  to  do  good,  and  that  I was  not 
aware  of  having  broken  any  rule  of  the  service, 
and  if  I had  done  so  I was  sorry  for  it.  The 
captain  finally  concluded  with  the  threat  that 
he  would  dismiss  me  from  the  service  when 
the  ship  arrived  home. 

It  was  hard  to  bear,  but  as  I reached  the 
sick  cabin  again  and  sat  down,  with  my  Bible 
in  hand,  it  opened  at  the  fifty-first  chapter  of 
Isaiah,  and  I read  as  follows:  “Hearken  unto 
Me,  ye  that  know  righteousness,  the  people  in 
60 


THE  VICTIM  VICTORIOUS. 

whose  heart  is  My  law;  fear  ye  not  the  re- 
proach of  men,  neither  be  afraid  of  their  re- 
vilings,  for  the  moth  shall  eat  them  up  like  a 
garment.  I,  even  I,  am  He  that  comfort eth 
you.  Who  art  thou  that  thou  shouldst  be 
afraid  of  a man  that  shall  diet” 

It  was  as  if  the  Lord  stood  by  His  poor  ser- 
vant on  the  “Crocodile,”  even  as  He  stood  by 
His  great  servant,  Paul,  on  board  ship,  and 
I was,  indeed,  comforted. 

During  the  remaining  days  of  the  voyage 
the  soldiers  often  expressed  their  disapproba- 
tion of  the  captain’s  conduct,  and  after  the 
ship  arrived  in  Portsmouth,  where  the  regi- 
ment was  for  some  time  stationed,  the  men, 
upon  meeting  me  in  the  street,  would  ask, 
“Did  the  captain  do  anything  to  you,  sir? 
’Shure,  it  was  a shame  the  way  he  treated  you, 
and,  although  I’m  not  of  your  persuasion,  I 
never  heard  you  say  anything  but  what  was 
good.” 

After  the  vessel  had  been  home  some  days 
a candidate  for  another  position  came  on 
board,  and  the  captain,  noting  that  this  man 
had  held  a similar  office  to  that  occupied  by 
myself,  saw  in  it,  as  he  thought,  a good  oppor- 
tunity to  get  rid  of  me.  I was  accordingly 
sent  for  and  told  that  I had  his  permission  to 
leave  the  ship  for  another  vessel,  but  when 
asked,  in  accordance  with  the  rules  of  the  ser- 
vice, to  state  my  reasons  for  wanting  to  ex- 
change, I simply  said  that  “I  did  not  want  to 
exchange,  and  therefore  had  no  reason  to  give 
61 


"tell  them.” 

for  desiring  to  do  so.”  This  settled  the  mat- 
ter so  far.  Many  of  my  friends  advised  my 
leaving,  but  I did  not  do  so,  deciding  that  I 
would  not  go  at  man’s  bidding,  nor  for  fear 
of  man,  but  simply  when  God  wanted  me  to 
do  so. 

God  has  said,  ‘‘Them  that  honor  Me,  I will 
honor,”  and  it  seemed  as  if  He  had  arranged, 
so  to  speak,  to  honor  His  unworthy  servant 
in  the  following  manner. 


62 


MISS  WESTON. 


Chapter  XV. 

Miss  Weston — The  “One  Lady  for  the  Navy." 

On  the  next  voyage  out  from  England  I 
went,  as  usual,  among  the  troops  with  papers' 
and  tracts,  giving  several  to  a group  of  men 
and  bidding  each  in  turn  read  his  paper  for 
the  good  of  all.  In  this  way  I was  soon  able 
to  find  out  who  were  Christian  men,  as  they 
would  generally  thank  me  and  tell  of  their  de- 
sires to  serve  God.  In  the  evenings  I would 
gather  these  men  together  in  my  store-room 
for  reading,  conversation  and  prayer. 

When  the  troops  were  leaving  the  vessel  at 
Alexandria  after  this  voyage  a young  Chris- 
tian soldier  told  me  of  his  intention  to  send  an 
account  of  the  voyage  to  a lady  friend  in  Eng- 
land, who  had  made  him  promise  to  do  so. 
“And,”  said  he,  “I  shall  tell  her  of  the  pleas- 
ant times  we  have  had.” 

“Well,”  I said,  “I  am  not  at  all  jealous  of 
the  army,  but  while  I know  of  several  ladies 
who  write  to  and  work  for  soldiers,  I do  not 
know  of  one  who  so  works  for  the  navy,  and 
I think  we  ought  to  have  at  least  one.”  We 
parted,  never  since  having  met,  but  when  the 
ship  arrived  home  a letter  was  waiting  me 
from  the  lady  in  question,  Miss  Agnes  E. 
Weston,  of  Bath. 


63 


Miss  Agnes  E.  Weston — the  “One  Lady  for  the  Navy.” 


MISS  WESTON. 


In  this  letter  she  told  of  her  soldier  friend 
having  related  the  foregoing  conversation,  and 
generously  expressed  her  willingness  to  be- 
come the  “one  lady  for  the  navy,”  if  she  only 
could  be  told  what  to  do  and  how  to  do  it. 
She  further  explained  that  she  was  totally  ig- 
norant of  shipping,  and  especially  of  “men-of- 
war,”  as  she  had  nearly  always  resided  in 
Bath;  nevertheless  she  was  willing  to  do 
“what  she  could.” 

After  thinking  and  praying  over  the  matter 
I made  out  a list  of  all  the  Christian  officers 
and  men  I knew  in  the  navy,  giving  the  names 
of  their  ships  and  where  they  were  stationed. 
Enclosing  this  in  a letter  full  of  rejoicing,  I 
advised  Miss  Weston  to  write  to  all  of  these, 
telling  them  of  her  offer  and  bidding  each  to 
send  a similar  list  to  the  one  I had  forwarded. 
By  using  a book  alphabetically  arranged  she 
could  enter  the  names  and  avoid  duplication. 
In  less  than  six  months  Miss  Weston  “held 
the  reins  of  the  navy.”  She  has  h«ld  them 
ever  since  with  regard  to  Christian  and  tem- 
perance work  in  the  British  navy. 

A great  event  was  the  meeting  of  Miss 
Weston  for  the  first  time,  in  1871.  Her  work 
had  grown  rapidly  for  three  years,  and  yet 
she  had  never  seen  one  of  her  “blue-jacket 
friends,”  as  she  called  them;  no,  not  even  the 
writer.  A tea  meeting  was  convened  in  the 
town  hall,  Portsmouth,  attended  by  hundreds 
of  sailors  and  marines,  and  the  privilege  was 
given  to  “her  first  sailer  friend”  to  introduce 
65 


“tell  them.” 


Miss  Weston  to  the  company.  It  was  a 
never-to-be-forgotten  occasion.  Men  from 
India,  China,  Africa  and  elsewhere  were  pres- 
ent to  see  the  face  and  grasp  the  hand  of  the 
friend  they  had  written  to  and  heard  from,  but 
never  seen.  I could  not  help,  when  address- 
ing the  company,  comparing  the  occasion  to 
the  one  when  “we  shall  see  Him,”  “whom  not 
having  seen,  we  love.”  In  1870  Miss  Weston 
had  to  resort  to  printing  “monthly  letters,”  as 
it  was  quite  impossible  to  write  to  all  she 
then  knew.  These  letters  were  called  “Blue 
Backs,”  because  of  the  color  of  the  cover,  and 
are  still  sent  each  month  all  over  the  world. 
Anyone  desiring  to  know  more  of  Miss  Wes- 
ton’s work  should  write  to  her  at  Devonport 
or  Portsmouth,  England. 

To-day  there  are  four  or  five  large  buildings 
in  English  seaports  where  thousands  of  Brit- 
ish, and  other  men-o’-war’s  men,  are  wel- 
comed and  housed.  Hundreds,  if  not  thou- 
sands, have  been  converted  as  the  result  of 
this  noble  woman’s  efforts  and  those  working 
with  her,  and  her  name  and  fame  are  now 
world  wide.  The  Queen  of  England  and 
others  of  the  royal  family  aid  her.  A few 
years  since  this  work  was  extended  to  the 
United  States  navy  and  is  becoming  success- 
fully developed,  as  the  following  extract  from 
an  article  published  in  1897  will  show. 

“Bluejackets  generally  will  be  pleased  to 
learn  that  Miss  Agnes  Weston’s  temperance 
magazine,  Ashore  and  Afloat,  has  met  with 
66 


MISS  WESTON. 


such  a flattering  reception  among  seamen  in 
the  United  States  Navy  that  the  authorities 
have  especially  requested  her  to  regularly  post 
the  magazine  to  American  warships.  So 
gratifying  a reception  as  this,  coming  from 
such  a vast  country  as  America,  must  be 
greatly  cheering  to  Miss  Weston,  as  it  affords 
her  an  ever-widening  field  for  her  brave,  self- 
denying  labors  on  behalf  of  the  bluejackets. 
Miss  Weston  has  done 

MORE  THAN  ANY  OTHER  WOMAN 
to  brighten  the  lives  of  our  sailors,  to  remind 
them  of  home  when  they  are  far  from  it,  to 
keep  them  from  the  temptations  which  every- 
where beset  their  path,  and  to  make  them  in 
many  senses  nobler  and  better  men.  For 
thirty  years  her  good  work  has  been  going  for- 
ward, and  the  hope  of  all  must  be  that  Miss 
Weston  may  be  long  spared  to  guide  it.” — 
Western  Mercury,  October , iSpy. 

There  were  some  other  ways  in  which  the 
Lord  “helped  me”  to  do  something.  One  was 
the  starting  of  an  evangelistic  society,  com- 
posed of  members  of  all  evangelical  denomi- 
nations, and  undertaking  tent  work  and  the 
rescue  of  the  “fallen.”  In  1876  I had  my 
head,  heart  and  hands  so  full  of  work  of  vari- 
ous kinds  that  I had  scarcely  time  to  eat  or 
sleep,  when,  most  unexpectedly,  I was  taken 
away  from  it  all  to  another  and  very  different 
sphere  of  labor. 


67 


The  crew  of  a British  man-of-war  assembled  to  hear  Miss  Weston. 


NEW  FIELDS  OF  LABOR. 


Chapter  XVI. 

Neiv  Fields  of  Labor. 

I remained  in  the  “Crocodile”  for  two  years 
longer,  until  August,  1870,  when  I was  most 
unexpectedly  recommended  for  appointment 
to  H.  M.  Dockyard,  Portsmouth,  by  the  chief 
surgeon  of  the  ship,  with  whom  I had  served 
for  three  years.  The  doctor  was  a Roman 
Catholic,  and  yet  expressed  his  sense  of  the 
captain’s  action  in  June,  ’68,  by  saying  to  me 
the  next  day,  “I  consider  his  treatment  of 
you  a piece  of  gross  injustice.” 

Meantime  the  captain  and  two  other  of- 
ficers, who  had  made  up  their  minds  to  “get 
that  religious  fellow  out  of  the  ship,”  left  the 
vessel,  while- 1 remained  on  board.  I also  had 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  three  other  officers 
take  their  places,  who  all  became  my  fast 
friends  and  encouraged  me  to  do  all  the  Chris- 
tian work  I pleased.  One  of  the  poor  fellows 
who  opposed  and  persecuted  me  killed  him- 
self with  drink,  and  another  committed  suicide 
at  sea,  after  leaving  the  “Crocodile.” 

* In  June,  1889,  just  twenty-one  years  after  the  occurrence 
previously  narrated,  I stood  on  the  deck  of  my  old  ship, 
looked  at  the  old  and  memorable  places,  “looked  back”  to 
June,  1868,  and  “looked  up”  to  thank  God  for  all  His 
goodness  and  care  then  and  since.  The  captain  and  surgeon 
both  died  in  1896. 


69 


“tell  them.” 


If,  as  the  result  of  such  experiences,  one 
lesson  more  than  another  has  been  learned,  it 
is  comprehended  in  the  one  little  word, 
“Wait.”  “My  soul,  wait  thou  only  upon 
God,  for  I shall  yet  praise  Him.”  So  wrote 
David,  and  so  he  spoke  to  his  own  soul.  To 
others  he  said,  “Rest  in  the  Lord,  and  ‘wait’ 
patiently  for  Him.”  But  how  did  he  act? 
Even  as  he  said,  for  when  he  might  have  cut 
off  the  head  of  his  great  enemy,  Saul,  he  cut 
off  the  corner  of  his  garment. 

And  “God  gave  him”  the  victory  later  on 
and  he  sat  on  the  throne. 

For  a full  week  after  the  offer  was  made 
me  of  the  position  at  the  surgery  of  the  dock- 
yard, I was  undecided  as  to  taking  it.  The 
question  with  me  was,  “Does  God  want  me  to 
take  it  and  leave  the  vessel  and  the  good  I 
might  do  there,  or  is  it  a bait  from  the  enemy 
to  get  me  to  desert  my  post?”  For  days  I 
prayed  for  guidance,  until  at  last  I found  it 
and  accepted  the  position. 

Perhaps  nothing  is  more  trying  at  times  to 
those  desiring  to  do  right  than  to  decide  be- 
tween one  or  more  courses  of  action  open 
to  them.  They  may  be  kept  waiting,  even  as 
I was  in  this  case.  It  will  put  their  fidelity 
and  submission  to  the  test;  but,  when  they 
have  obtained  the  guidance  sought,  so  that 
they  feel  and  know  they  are  divinely  guided, 
it  will  afford  them  a strength  otherwise  un- 
known. Various  means  may  be  used  by  God 
to  impart  this  knowledge,  but  that  it  is  to  be 
70 


NEW  FIELDS  OF  LABOR. 


obtained  and  will  be  granted  to  the  sincere 
seeker,  I have  no  doubt. 

The  following  experience  is  narrated,  not  as 
laying  down  a rule  for  others — it  was  the  only 
time  direction  came  to  the  writer  in  this  way 
— but  simply  to  tell  how  “He  helped  me”  at 
this  time. 

While  in  prayer,  with  my  wife,  on  the  last 
day  allowed  by  the  authorities  for  my  decis- 
ion, it  came  into  my  mind  to  go  to  a devoted 
Christian  woman,  and  I was  led  to  ask  that 
God  would  speak  to  me  through  her,  deciding 
to  act  just  as  she  advised.  We  had  not  seen 
our  friend  for  months,  and,  without  explain- 
ing the  real  object  of  our  call,  I told  her  of  the 
offer  I had  and  said:  “What  would  you  advise 
me  to  do?” 

“Why,  take  it,  of  course,”  was  the  quick  re- 
ply. 

“Then  I shall  do  so,”  I said,  and  nar- 
rated the  circumstances  which  led  us 
to  call  upon  her.  She  was  a woman 
slow  of  speech,  and  her  quick  reply 
had  surprised  us.  “I  should  not  have 
answered  so  quickly  if  I had  known  that,” 
she  said.  “Never  mind,  it  is  just  right,  we 
have  no  doubt.” 

That  was  in  August,  1870,  more  than 
twenty-seven  years  since,  and  to-day  I fully  be- 
lieve that  I was  rightly  guided.  At  first,  how- 
ever, after  commencing  my  duties  at  the  dock- 
yard, I often  questioned  whether  I had  not 
acted  the  coward  and  deserted  my  post  after 

71 


“tell  them.” 

all.  But,  as  the  poor  fellows — some  six  thou- 
sand were  employed  there — came  to  the  sur- 
gery to  have  their  injuries  attended  to,  and 
the  opportunities  while  treating  their  bodies 
to  speak  a word  about  their  souls  were  em- 
braced, I began  to  feel  that  I had  not  made  a 
mistake  and  was  in  the  right  place. 

Strangely  enough,  three  of  my  predecessors 
had  killed  themselves  with  strong  drink,  and 
when  the  men  who  came  to  be  attended  to 
were  received  and  treated  kindly,  and  saw  the 
Scripture  texts  upon  the  walls  and  religious 
illustrated  papers  for  their  reading  while  wait- 
ing, they  often  remarked  upon  “the  great 
change”  in  the  place. 

But  my  heart  was  still  with  the  poor  fel- 
lows “who  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships,”  and 
I longed  to  do  more  and  see  more  done  for 
them.  This  led  to  my  making  an  appeal  for 
books  and  magazines,  to  be  placed  on  board 
the  ships  going  abroad.  After  this,  when 
vessels  left  the  dockyard,  they  had  on  board 
a dozen  or  more  large  parcels  of  papers  for 
the  war  ships  they  were  likely  to  meet  with. 


72 


HOW  THE  R.  N.  T.  S.  WAS  STARTED. 


Chapter  XVII. 

How  the  R.  N.  T.  S.  Was  Started. 

Tn  February,  1871,  H.  M.  Ship  Reindeer 
came  home  from  the  Pacific,  and  I was  re- 
joiced to  find  some  old  shipmates  and  friends 
who  were  Christian  and  temperance  men. 
t hey  asked  me  to  arrange  a "tareweil  supper” 
for  them  ere  they  separated. 

The  thought  of  so  much  effort  being  lost 
m this  and  other  vessels’ by  these  little  soci- 
eties being  broken  up,  led  me  to  think  and 
calk  of  forming  a Royal  Naval  Temperance 
Society,  which  should  embrace  all  these  small 
societies  as  branches. 

When,  however,  I spoke  of  it  to  the  officers 
and  men  of  the  “Reindeer,”  they  shrank  from 
the  idea,  and  thought  it  could  never  be. 

Having  charge  of  the  arrangements  for  the 
“farewell  supper,”  I invited  a few  friends  to 
the  gathering,  and  at  the  meeting  announced 
the  project  and  plans,  and  they  were  adopted 
there  and  then.  Among  those  present  were 
the  Rev.  William  Rose,  Rev.  William  Griggs, 
W.  B.  Robinson,  Esq.,  Chief  Constructor  at 
Portsmouth  Dockyard,  Mr.  John  Dyer,  Boats 
swain  R.  N.,  Sergeant  Haskett,  R.  M.  A.,  and 
Mr.  Downs,  Writer  R.  N. ; while  Lieut.  A.  J. 
O’Rourke,  R.  N.,  Sub.  Lieut.  C.  W.  Last, 
R.  N.,  Mr.  Rawkins,  Master-at-Arms,  and 
73 


“tell  them.” 

fourteen  others,  belonging  to  the  “Reindeer 
Temperance  Society,”  were  also  present. 

It  was  indeed  a memorable  occasion,  and  by 
strange  coincidence  was  held  in  a building  in 
the  Commercial  Road,  Landport,  Portsmouth, 
only  about  a dozen  doors  from  where  Miss 
Weston’s  Sailor’s  Rest  now  stands. 

To  commemorate  this  event,  and  the  four 
years  the  men  had  been  together  “on  the 
Pacific,”  some  silver  medals  were  struck, 
representing  H.  M.  Ship  Reindeer,  encircled 
by  the  words  “H.  M.  S.  Reindeer  Temperance 
Society.”  There  were  nineteen  members  of 
the  Society  at  this  time,  although  at  one  time 
there  were  over  fifty. 

Twenty  medals  were  made,  and  the  writer 
was  honored  by  being  decorated  with  the 
twentieth  one  at  the  “farewell”  gathering. 
The  cash  box  of  the  Reindeer  Society  was  also 
given  me  as  a memento  of  the  occasion,  and 
I still  possess  it. 

The  Royal  Naval  Temperance  Society  was 
formed  of  representatives  of  each  branch  of 
the  service,  navy,  marines  and  dockyard.  Mr. 
Robinson  as  acting  President.  Commodore 
Goodenough,  afterwards  killed  in  battle  in 
New  Zealand,  was  the  first  President,  one  of 
the  bravest  of  officers,  yet  most  gentle  of  men, 
a Christian  hero. 

I accepted  the  position  of  Secretary,  and 
held  the  office  for  two  years  and  a half,  until 
the  membership  of  the  R.  N.  T.  S.  had  grown 
to  five  thousand,  including  officers  and  men 
74 


HOW  THE  R.  N.  T.  S.  WAS  STARTED. 


of  all  ranks.  During  this  time  frequent  meet- 
ings were  held  on  board  the  various  “men-of- 
war”  in  the  harbor  and  at  Spithead.  Miss 
Sarah  Robinson,  the  Soldier’s  Friend,  the 
Rev.  Gelson  Gregson,  of  India,  Mr.  A. 
Blackat,  Seaman's  Missionary,  and  others, 
took  part. 

In  the  summer  of  1873,  Miss  Weston  and 
Mr.  Robert  Rae,  Secretary  of  the  National 
Temperance  League,  came  down  to  Ports- 
mouth and  I officially  handed  over  the  Society 
to  their  care,  it  having  grown  to  such  an  ex- 
tent that  it  was  impossible  for  me  longer  to 
conduct  its  affairs  and  attend  to  my  official 
duties  at  the  dockyard. 


75 


Rev.  Theodore  L.  Cuyler,  D.  D. 


_______ 


TWO  MEMORABLE  GATHERINGS. 


Chapter  XVIII. 

Two  Memorable  Gatherings. 

A memorable  gathering  was  the  annual 
meeting  of  the  National  Temperance  League, 
held  in  Exeter  Hall,  London,  in  1873.  A 
large  number  of  foreign  delegates  were  pre- 
sent on  this  occasion,  including  the  veteran 
preacher,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Cuyler,  of  Brooklyn, 
N.  Y. 

The  vast  platform,  extending  around  and 
in  the  rear  of  the  speakers’  platform,  looked 
like  a huge  bouquet;  for  here  were  gathered 
hundreds  of  men  in  the  different  colored  uni- 
forms representing  various  regiments  of 
cavalry,  infantry  and  artillery,  Royal  Marines, 
Royal  Navy  and  Coastguard. 

The  enthusiasm  which  greeted  the  great 
preacher,  Dr.  Cuyler,  was  intense.  It  was 
feared  that  he  might  not  arrive  from  New 
York  in  time  to  address  the  great  gathering, 
but  he  reached  the  hall  about  half  an  hour 
after  the  exercises  had  begun.  When  the 
Doctor  stepped  to  the  front,  and,  Paul-like, 
“stretched  forth  his  hand”  to  speak,  the  cheer- 
ing was  tremendous,  especially  from  the  army 
and  navy  men. 

It  was  nearly  five  minutes  before  he  was  al- 
lowed to  begin,  and  when  he  did  so,  he  turned 
77 


“tell  them.” 

around  to  the  soldiers  and  sailors  and  said, 
“I  bring  a friendly  message  to  you  from 
America,  a message  of  peace.  Our  boys 
across  the  water  have  no  desire  to  cross  swords 
with  you  brave  boys  here.  Let  us  have  peace, 
let  us  keep  peace,  and  may  it  never  be  war 
between  Great  Britain  and  America.” 

Such  a grand  sentiment  thus  expressed, 
especially  at  a time  when  the  relationships  be- 
tween the  two  nations  were  at  least  “a  little 
strained,”  “brought  down  the  house,”  as  it  is 
sometimes  expressed. 

Thank  God  for  men  like  Dr.  Guyler,  Mr. 
D.  L.  Moody,  Dr.  A.  T.  Pierson,  and  others, 
in  America,  and  such  men  in  Great  Britain 
who  endeavor,  by  preaching  the  Gospel  of 
peace  on  “both  sides  of  the  water,”  to  keep 
the  peace  between  two  of  the  greatest  nations 
of  the  earth,  who  speak  the  one  language,  and 
who  sing  the  one  national  tune,  albeit  the 
words  of  the  anthem  differ. 

The  morning  after  the  great  meeting  in 
Exeter  Hall,  a special  Breakfast  Conference 
was  arranged,  to  which  the  foreign  delegates 
were  particularly  invited.  It  was  a grand 
gathering  of  noble  men. 

The  writer  had  brought  up  the  Naval  Con- 
tingent from  Portsmouth,  and  was  greatly 
astonished  when  he  was  invited  to  this  select 
gathering  of  the  good  and  great.  But  judge 
of  his  more  than  astonishment,  and  almost 
collapse,  when  he  was  asked  to  speak  for  ten 
78 


TWO  MEMORABLE  GATHERINGS. 


minutes  to  such  a gathering.  Ten  of  the 
thirty  years  of  his  life  had  been  spent  at  sea, 
and  never  before,  or  perhaps  since,  did  he  so 
realize  his  own  weakness ; but,  in  a marvellous 
way,  as  with  Paul,  the  Lord  stood  by  him. 
The  first  five  minutes  were  occupied  with  a 
brief  statement  regarding  temperance  work 
in  the  Navy,  the  last  five  were  used  to  tell  of 
God’s  goodness  to  a poor  boy,  who.  eighteen 
years  before,  had  invested  his  sixpence  in 
newspapers  in  an  office  adjoining  the  building 
where  he  then  stood  in  such  an  assembly. 
It  seemed  strange,  in  one  sense,  that  no  more 
speeches  followed,  but,  at  the  suggestion  of 
dear  Mr.  Smithies,  the  time  was  spent  in 
prayer  and  praise.  Perhaps  the  story  of  one 
poor  boy  awoke  memories  in  the  breasts  of 
some  present,  but  so  it  was.  Explain  it  how 
we  may,  one  thing  was  evident  to  all,  viz.,  that 
God  was  there.  He  surely  always  stands  by 
His  witnesses  when  they  speak  of  and  for 
Him. 

To-day  nearly  every  British  “man-o’-war” 
has  its  R.  N.  T.  S.  branch,  and  the  member- 
ship numbers  thousands,  among  them  being 
more  than  one  admiral.  Miss  Weston  has 
thus  two  oars  to  her  boat,  religion  and  tem- 
perance, both  of  which  she  pulls  vigorously. 


79 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  XIX. 

The  Arctic  Expedition  of  1875. 

When  the  “Alert”  and  “Discovery”  were 
“fitting  out  for  the  Arctic  expedition”  in  May, 
1875,  the  officers  and  men  had  all  to  be  medi- 
cally examined  at  the  surgery  of  the  dockyard. 

A very  striking  incident  occurred  during 
the  examination  of  the  officers  and  men  for 
this  expedition.  A board  of  surgeons  exam- 
ined each  man  very  thoroughly  indeed,  and 
only  those  who  were  perfect  physically  were 
“passed.”  One  officer  had  come  to  England 
from  a foreign  station,  anxious  to  go  with  the 
expedition.  The  doctors  rejected  him  on  ac- 
count of  a single  small  scar  of  half  an  inch. 
In  vain  did  the  poor  fellow  plead  that  it  had 
been  healed  for  sixteen  years,  and  he  had 
been  well  and  lived  right  since.  The  doc- 
tors were  decided,  and  he  was  not  allowed  to 
go.  As  I looked  at  the  poor  man  and  heard 
him  plead  I remembered  the  words,  “Lord,  if 
Thou  wert  strict  to  mark  iniquities,  O Lord, 
who  could  stand?”.  Who,  indeed.  Not  one. 

As  I talked  with  the  men  and  thought  of 
the  many  dark  and  cheerless  months  during 
which  they  would  be,  so  to  speak,  “out  of 
the  world,”  I decided  to  try  and  secure  a large 
supply  of  books  for  them. 

80 


THE  ARCTIC  EXPEDITION  OF  1875. 

Appealing  in  The  Christian,  of  London,  and 
some  other  papers,  I succeeded  in  getting  over 
a quarter  of  a ton  of  splendidly-bound,  illus- 
trated books  and  magazines.  When  the  ships 
were  about  to  sail  I applied  to  the  captain  to 
place  them  in  the  ship's  library,  but  he  de- 
clared it  “impossible  to  take  anything  more 
on  board.”  This  was  a great  disappointment, 
butlhe  difficulty  was  overcome  by  each  man 
calling  at  the  surgery  for  a single  book  as  he 
passed  by  to  his  ship,  so  they  all  got  not  “to 
land,”  but  to  sea,  and  were  read  and  ex- 
changed among  the  men  throughout  the  many 
dark  and  dreary  months. 

The  poor  fellows  would  also  be  unable  to  re- 
ceive any  mail  for  the  greater  part  of  the  time, 
and  to  in  some  measure  meet  this  emergency 
Miss  Weston  hit  upon  the  happy  idea  of  pre- 
paring and  printing  off  a “monthly  letter”  for 
each  month  of  the  three  years  they  were  likely 
to  be  absent  from  home. 

Each  monthly  packet  was  kept  sealed  until 
the  first  of  the  month,  when  the  “mail  came 
aboard,”  and  was  “served  out”  to  the  officers 
and  men,  and  served  to  cheer  many  a weary 
hour  at  least  once  a month.  A “Farewell 
Tea”  was  also  arranged,  and  Miss  Weston 
and  other  friends  bade  the  expedition  “God 
speed”  in  the  Arctic  seas. 


81 


Admiral  Arthur  Alington,  R.  N. , 
President  of  the  Royal  Naval  Temperance  Society, 


The  r.  n.  t.  s.  anniversary  in  1897. 


Chapter  XX. 

The  R.  N.  T.  S.  Anniversary  in  i8gj. 

While  revising  the  proofs  of  these  pages,  a 
copy  of  Miss  Weston’s  paper-,  Ashore  and 
Afloat,  came  to  hand,  containing  an  account 
of  the  annual  meeting  of  the  Royal  Naval 
Temperance  Society,  held  in  Devonport  on 
November  3d,  1897.  It  will  doubtless  prove 
interesting  to  the  reader,  even  as  it  certainly 
does  to  the  writer,  to  know  something  of  this 
most  recent  gathering. 

From  the  account  given,  it  appears  that,  in 
addition  to  Admiral  Arthur  Alington,  the 
newly  elected  President  (whose  portrait  ap- 
pears on  another  page),  Admiral  and  Lady 
Freemantle,  Commander  W.  Ingram,  R.  N., 
Captain  G.  F.  King-Hall,  R.  N.,  Miss  Weston 
and  Miss  Wintz,  her  co-laborer,  and  many 
prominent  citizens,  were  present,  the  hall  be- 
ing “crowded  to  excess.” 

Admiral  Alington,  as  Chairman,  said, 
among  other  things,  “It  was  only  in  1881  that 
he  first  realized  there  was  any  common  sense 
in  the  fad,  as  he  then  thought  it,  of  teetotal- 
ism;  so  that  he  had  seen  both  sides  of  the 
question.  What  he  had  learnt  since  1881  had 
led  him  to  feel  sure  there  was  something  in 
total  abstinence,  and  that  there  was  a power 

83 


“tell  them.” 

and  a grand  principle  underlying  it.  Many 
bluejackets  thought  admirals  had  no  feelings, 
but  they  had;  and  he  put  it  to  them  whether 
bluejackets  who  were  teetotalers  had  not  more 
influence  with  their  comrades  on  the  lower 
deck.  It  was  not  a manly  act  to  get  drunk, 
but  a poor,  foolish  thing,  and  a recollection 
of  something  that  had  come  down  to  the  navy 
of  to-day  from  the  time  when  the  service  was 
very  different.” 

Miss  Weston,  who  was  enthusiastically  re- 
ceived, referred  to  the  late  Admiral  Sir  W. 
King-Hall,  formerly  President  of  the  Society.* 

Miss  Weston  said  Admiral  Sir  W.  King- 
Hall  helped  the  work  on  in  its  infancy,  and  set 
the  example  of  temperance  himself;  and  it  was 
a joy  to  feel  that  they  had  with  them  on  the 
platform  Captain  King-Hall,  a son  of  the  Ad- 
miral. Since  that  day  the  work  had  gone  for- 
ward, and  she  was  asked  to  take  the  honorary 
superintendence  of  it,  and  gladly  did  so.  The 
Society  was  conducted  on  broad  naval  lines; 
it  was  quite  unsectarian,  and  was  carried  on 
with  the  approbation  of  commanding  officers. 
Tts  object  was  to  lessen  drink  in  the  navy,  and 
consequently  to  reduce  crime.  There  was  not 
a ship  in  Her  Majesty's  service  but  what  car- 
ried a branch  of  the  Society,  and  it  was  repre- 


* The  reader  may  call  to  mind  the  fact  that  this  officer  was 
captain  of  H.  M.  S.  Cumberland , in  1864,  in  which  vessel 
he  encouraged  me  in  my  efforts  by  himself  signing  the  pledge 
in  December  of  that  year.  The  son  referred  to  was  a boy 
at  that  time,  well  remembered  by  the  writer. 

84' 


THE  R.  N.  T.  S.  ANNIVERSARY  IN  1 897. 

: H 

sented  in  some  degree  cn  every  vessel  that 
took  part  in  the  Jubilee  Naval  Review  at  Spit- 
head.  The  movement  was  going  forward  by 
leaps  and  bounds,  and  had  become  a power  for 
good. 

Rev.  W.  Mantle  congratulated  the  navy  on 
having  such  a lady  as  Miss  Weston  devoting 
her  energies  to  such  a grand  work  as  that  in 
which  she  had  been  engaged  for  so  many 
years.  England  had  not  so  much  to  fear  from 
foreign  foes  as  the  foe  on  her  own  shores,  viz., 
the  vices  of  her  people.  In  England  the  great 
foe  they  had  to  face  was  the  sin  of  intemper- 
ance, which  was  being  waged  against  by  such 
societies  as  that  under  whose  auspices  that 
meeting  was  held. 

Rev.  F.  Flynn,  R.  N.,  said  the  temperance 
society  was  a living  power  in  the  navy,  and 
was  also  an  addition  to  the  fighting  strength 
of  the  great  temperance  army  which  was  wag- 
ing a righteous  war  throughout  the  land. 
Whilst  the  Society  was  absolutely  unsectarian, 
it  recognized  the  necessity  of  Gospel  temper- 
ance work. 

Miss  Weston  then  distributed  several  silver 
medals  and  “Fidelity”  stars  to  abstainers,  the 
recipients  being  enthusiastically  cheered  as 
they  received  their  “decorations.”  Miss  Wes- 
ton mentioned  that  *two  thousand  of  these 
honors  were  distributed  to  naval  men  last  year. 


*A  “Victory”  silver  medal  is  given  after  five  years’  total 
abstinence.  ' A “ Fidelity  ” star  after  one  year. 

85 


he  Rev.  Josiah  Henson,  the  “Uncle  Tom”  of  “Uncle 
Tom’s  Cabin.”  Taken  in  1S76,  when  in  his  88th  year. 


OLD  UNCLE  TOM. 


Chapter  XXI. 

Old  Uncle  Tom, 

It  is  instructive  to  notice  how,  in  the  life  of 
an  individual,  very  small  events  lead  to  greater 
ones,  and  to  such  as  one  never  anticipated. 

In  September,  1876,  two  things  led  me  to 
take  a trip  to  London.  One  was  to  offer  my 
services  to  the  “Red  Cross  Society,”  which 
was  sending  medical  aid  to  the  wounded  in 
Servia;  the  other  to  meet  “Old  Uncle  Tom,” 
of  Mrs.  Beecher  Stowe’s  famous  book,  and 
arrange  for  his  coming  to  Portsmouth. 

Colonel  F.  W.  Sandwith  kindly  introduced 
me  to  the  “Red  Cross  Society,”  and  it  was 
arranged  that  I should  go  with  the  next  party, 
but  it  never  went. 

While  taking  lunch  with  the  Colonel  near 
Charing  Cross,  he  said,  “You  ought  to  go 
into  medical  mission  work.”  Further  conver- 
sation took  place  on  the  subject,  and  I bore 
a message  from  the  Colonel  to  Rev.  C.  J. 
Whitmore,  asking  him  to  write  Dr.  Burns 
Thomson,  of  Edinburgh,  concerning  the 
matter. 

A brief  note  was  written  to  Dr.  Thomson, 
who,  in  reply,  regretted  that  he  did  not  need 
an  assistant  just  then  in  his  medical  mission 
but  that  he  understood  one  was  needed  in 

,87 


“tell  them.” 

Liverpool,  and  he  had  forwarded  my  letter 
there. 

Dr.  Thomson  was  one  of  my  warmest 
friends  and  counsellors  up  to  the  time  of  his 
death,  some  two  years  since.  He  was  well 
called  the  “Father  of  Home  Medical  Mis- 
sions.” Many  a noble  young  man  did  he  aid 
and  train  as  Superintendent  of  the  Edinburgh 
Medical  Missionary  Society,  and  later  in  con- 
nection with  the  London  M.  M.  Association. 
While  a student  of  theology,  he  visited  the 
poor  in  Edinburgh,  and  was  led  to  study 
medicine  in  order  to  better  reach  and  influ- 
ence them;  and  many  of  them  did  he  lead  to 
the  great  Physician. 

Concerning  “Uncle  Tom”  1 had  read  an 
account  in  The  Christian,  telling  how  the  poor 
old  colored  man,  then  eighty-eight  years  of 
age,  had  come  to  England  to  get  aid  to  re- 
deem his  farm,  which  he  had  mortgaged  in 
order  to  continue  legal  proceedings  against  a 
man  who  had  defrauded  the  colored  people 
out  of  the  “Dawn  Institute”  in  Canada.  After 
nine  years’  battling,  Tom  got  the  victory;  but 
his  own  money,  and  all  he  could  get  from 
friends,  was  gone,  and  his  little  farm  would 
be  foreclosed  in  a few  weeks. 

Tom  arranged  to  come  down  to  Ports- 
mouth, and  took  back  £40  (two  hundred  dol- 
lars), as  the  result  of  his  visit.  While  in  Ports- 
mouth, I took  him  on  board  the  old  “Victory,” 
and  he  saw  the  spot  “where  Nelson  fell.” 
The  crew  of  the  ship  was  assembled  and  lis- 
88 


OLD  UNCLE  TOM. 


tened  to  “Old  Tom”  while  he  talked  to  them 
of  the  slavery  of  sin,  and  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.  He  then  gave  all  a copy  of  The 
Christian  Age,  containing  his  portrait  and  a 
sketch.  The  editor,  Dr.  Lobb,  accompanied 
him,  and  looked  after  his  affairs  generally. 

Tom’s  real  name  was  Josiah  Henson,  as  ex- 
plained in  Mrs.  Stowe’s  “Key  to  Uncle  Tom's 
Cabin.”  Some  of  my  friends  thought  that  I 
was  being  deceived  in  him,  and  determined 
that  they  would  not  be. 

I knew,  however,  that  the  man  was  en- 
dorsed by  such  men  as  the  Earl  of  Shaftes- 
bury and  Samuel  Morley,  M.  P.,  two  of  Eng- 
land’s noblest  Christian  philanthropists,  and 
I was  willing  and  glad  to  join  hands  with  them 
in  helping  the  poor  old  Negro  slave,  and 
“take  all  risks,”  and  I did  so. 

Not  long  after  his  visit  to  Portsmouth,  the 
Queen  of  England  sent  for  “Old  Tom,”  and 
had  him  spend  an  hour  with  her  recounting 
some  of  the  thrilling  scenes  in  his  eventful 
life.  Before  he  left,  the  Queen — grand,  noble 
woman  that  she  is— exchanged  autographs 
and  photographs  with  the  poor  old  fugitive 
slave,  who  rejoiced  in  Him  who  “taketh  the 
beggar  and  setteth  him  among  princes.”  The 
Queen  still  lives — and  long  may  she  live — but 
“Uncle  Tom,”  and  the  two  great  and  grand 
men  named,  have  passed  on  to  their  home  and 
reward. 

The  portrait  of  “Uncle  Tom”  here  given, 
89 


“tell  them.” 

is  reproduced  from  an  original  photograph 
given  to  the  author  by  the  old  hero  in  1876. 
He  was  a truly  remarkable  old  man,  a most 
joyous  and  earnest  Christian,  full  of  good 
humor  and  hearty  sympathy;  and  like  his  Di- 
vine Master,  he  delighted  in  children,  and 
especially  “little  ones.”  At  the  time  of  his 
visit  a “little  one”  of  four  months — Lily — now 
married — was  his  peculiar  care;  and  despite 
his  inability  to  fully  use  his  arms,  owing  to 
the  fracture  of  both  “shoulder  blades,”  or 
scapulae,  by  Legree,  he  nursed  her  by  the 
hour. 

One  night  during  his  visit  to  Portsmouth 
the  old  man  had  a dream  which  he  narrated 
at  the  breakfast  table.  He  dreamed  that  he 
was  awakened  by  the  noise  of  people  rushing 
along  the  streets,  many  in  dismay,  others  filled 
with  joy.  Calling  from  the  window,  he  asked 
what  it  all  meant,  and  received  the  reply  that, 
“Jesus  has  come  to  take  His  people  home.” 
“Bless  the  Lord, I ’se  all  ready,”  he  responded, 
clapping  his  hands  with  joy. 

Perhaps  no  truer  test  of  Christian  character 
and  standing  could  be  made  than  to  pass 
through  such  an  experience. 

After  the  Queen  had  “shaken  hands”  with 
Tom,  everybody  wanted  to  do  so,  and  I could 
not  help  saying  to  some  of  my  skeptical 
friends,  “You  can  shake  hands  with  the  old 
man  now,  after  the  Queen,  but  you  might 
have  done  so  before  her,  as  some  of  us  did." 

90 


OLD  UNCLE  TOM. 


After  spending  some  months  in  Great 
Britain,  where  he  was  most  generously  treated, 
he  went  home,  with  fully  ten  thousand  dollars 
above  all  he  needed  to  redeem  his  farm  and 
home. 

We  had  removed  to  Liverpool  meanwhile, 
as  told  in  the  next  chapter,  and  one  day  I 
saw  it  stated  in  a newspaper  that  “Tom”  was 
to  sail  from  Liverpool  the  next  day.  Accom- 
panied by  my  wife,  I saw  the  old  man  off. 
How  glad  he  was  to  see  us  and  tell  of  all  his 
success  since  we  met  before.  The  writer  was 
the  last  man  to  shake  hands  with  “Uncle 
Tom”  with  one  exception.  The  captain  of 
the  steam  tug  was  the  last  one  to  do  so.  We 
shall  meet  again,  but  not  on  earth. 


91 


* 


) 


Dr.  William  Burns-Thomson. 


GREAT  CHANGES. 


Chapter  XXII. 

Great  Changes. 

A day  or  two  after  my  arrival  home  from 
London,  a letter  was  received  from  Liverpool, 
asking  me  to  go  there  on  a visit.  After 
spending  a week  in  that  city,  I was  offered 
the  position  of  assistant  to  the  Liverpool 
Medical  Mission,  and  accepted  it. 

It  caused  a great  breaking  up  of  old  ties, 
and  a very  hurried  one,  too,  as  all  had  to  be 
effecteckin  a few  days,  but  my  friends  managed 
to  arrange  “a  farewell  meeting,”  which  was 
attended  bv  representatives  from  the  army, 
navy,  dockyard,  etc.,  and  the  various  denomi- 
nations. 

A purse  of  sovereigns  was  presented  to  me, 
to  meet  expenses.  Friends  spoke  of  their  not 
knowing  how  they  would  get  on  now,  but  thev 
were  reminded  that  the  best  way  they  could 
show  the  esteem  they  had  expressed  for  any- 
thing I had  tried  to  do,  would  be  by  their 
seeing  to  it  that  those  efforts  were  not  allowed 
to  fall  through,  and  I am  thankful  to  say  that 
they  “continue  to  this  day.” 

It  was  indeed  a great  change  of  scene  and 
labor,  but  I was  soon  “in  love  with  it.”  There 
was  nothing  very  inviting  in  itself,  in  attend- 
ing to  a crowd  of  poor,  dirty  and  diseased 
93 


“tell  them.” 

people;  but  when  each  was  looked  upon  as 
“a  human  soul  for  whom  Christ  died,”  and 
for  whom  He  had  prepared  a place,  and  pro- 
vided by  His  own  blood  the  means  to  make 
it  possible  for  them  to  enter  heaven  and  be 
fitted  for  the  place,  there  was  a grandeur  in 
such  service  which  was  fascinating. 

There  were  two  large  dispensaries  in  con- 
nection with  the  Liverpool  Medical  Mission,  in 
which  about  four  hundred  patients  w'ere  at- 
tended daily  during  five  days  of  the  week. 
To  stand  before  two  or  three  hundred  of  these 
poor  creatures,  many  being  shoeless  and  hat- 
less, and  “less”  of  nearly  everything  worth 
having,  to  tell  them  of  the  love  of  God,  of  the 
bright  heaven  above,  where  “they  shall  hunger 
no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more,”  and  where 
“God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their 
eyes,”  was  now  the  privilege  I enjoyed.  Fur- 
ther, to  minister  to  and  help  these  poor  suffer- 
ing ones,  and,  while  doing  so,  to  preach  the 
Gospel  to  them  individually,  was  grand  work. 
And  what  grander  can  there  be  on  earth,  than 
to  “minister  to  bodies  and  souls  diseased,”  and 
have  the  joy  of  seeing  both  healed? 

During  three  years  of  service  there,  I had 
the  joy  of  seeing  many  led  to  the  Saviour, 
chiefly  through  individual  conversation  with 
them.  I found  that,  while  it  was  a good  thing 
to  speak  to  a crowd,  yet  success  was  chiefly 
met  with  in  dealing  with  individuals — spirit- 
ually as  well  as  medically — by  means  of  simple 
language  and  illustration. 


9+ 


GREAT  CHANGES. 


For  instance,  after  writing  a patient’s  name 
in  my  book,  I would  often  converse  as  follows: 
“Now  you  have  got  your  name  entered  in  my 
book,  but  do  you  know  that  Jesus  keeps  a 
book  in  heaven  called  the  Lamb’s  Book  of 
Life?  Have  you  got  your  name  down  in  His 
book?”  If  the  answer  was  negative,  I would 
ask,  “Would  you  like  to  have  it  down  there?” 
To  which  the  reply  would  generally  be  “Yes, 
indeed.”  “Do  you  know  how  to  get  it  there?” 
“No,  not  exactly,”  or  “by  being  good.” 
“Well,  now,  how  did  you  get  it  down  in 
my  book?”  and  then  I would  explain: 

“First,  you  felt  sick?” 

“Yes,  doctor.” 

“Second,  you  wanted  to  be  cured? ' 

“Yes,  indeed;  I did,  sir.” 

“Third,  you  tried  to  cure  yourself?” 

“Yes,  that’s  so;  for  I went  to  the  druggist 
and  got ” 

“Exactly;  and  then  you  found  that  you 
could  not  cure  yourself?” 

“Yes,  indeed.” 

“And  you  thought,  Who  is  there  that  I can 
trust  to  cure  me?  And  you  decided  to  come 
and  trust  me  to  do  it.  Now  you  have  come, 
you  find  me  waiting  and  willing  to  take  your 
case  in  hand.” 

“Indeed,  I do;  and  thank  you,  doctor.” 
“Then  you  see  that  the  very  first  thing  I 
do  is  to  put  your  name  down  in  my  book, 
showing  that  you  came  to  trust  me  to  cure 
you,  and  that  I was  willing  to  accept  you  as 
95 


“tell  them.” 

my  patient.  In  this  book  there  are  thousands 
of  names  of  those  who  have  come  here  just 
as  you  have  clone.” 

In  this  way  the  Gospel  would  be  presented 
simply,  and  the  patients  urged  to  trust  the 
great  Physician  to  save  their  souls,  as  they 
had  trusted  the  earthly  one  to  heal  their  bodies. 

Many  very  interesting  cases  might  be  nar- 
rated to  show  the  value  of  this  two-fold  effort 
to  heal  body  and  soul;  but  one  must  suffice. 

The  wife  of  a working  man  was  attending 
the  mission  as  a patient,  and  I had  often  talked 
with  her  about  her  spiritual  welfare.  One  day 
I urged  her  to  decision,  asking  her  to  take  the 
words,  “I  will  trust  and  not  be  afraid,”  and 
make  them  her  own.  She  did  so,  and  patient 
and  physician  shook  hands  and  rejoiced. 
Opening  my  table  drawer,  in  which  I kept 
various  little  books,  cards,  etc.,  I said,  “Now, 
I must  give  you  something  in  memory  of  this 
occasion.”  The  first  thing  I took  out  of  the 
drawer  was  a card,  upon  which  was  the  very 
text  I had  just  used.  Both  felt  that  God’s 
hand  was  in  the  coincidence,  and  it  served  to 
increase  the  confidence  and  joy  of  each.  The 
card  was  taken  home,  framed,  and  hung  over 
the  mantelpiece. 

Mrs.  Summers  had  a son  away  from  home, 
who  was  a most  expert  conjurer  and  pro- 
nounced atheist.  And  she  requested  prayer 
in  the  mission  meetings  for  her  boy  “Will.” 
Prayer  was  earnestly  offered  for  him,  and  most 
wonderfully  answered.  One  night,  when  he 
96 


GREAT  CHANGES. 


was  hundreds  of  miles  from  home,  he,  to  use 
his  own  words, “found  himself  upon  his  knees” 
when  retiring  to  rest.  Being  there,  he  began 
to  talk  to  himself  thus:  “Why,  Will,  what  are 
you  doing  here?  You  don’t  believe  in  this 
kind  of  thing.”  “Well,  no;  but  now  I am 
here,  I suppose  I must  do  something.”  Re- 
membering a little  verse  his  grandmother  had 
taught  him  at  her  knee,  “Now  I lay  me  down 
to  sleep,”  he  repeated  it  and  lay  down;  but 
not  to  sleep,  for  thoughts  troubled  him. 

A few  days  later  he  returned  home,  and 
soon  after  joined  the  church  his  mother  at- 
tended. 

One  night,  after  attending  a meeting,  he 
packed  up  all  his  conjuring  materials,  which 
had  cost  him  about  five  hundred  dollars,  and 
carrying  them  to  a “rag  shop,”  sold  them  for 
old  metal  and  got  two  and  a half  dollars  (ten 
shillings).  He  first  broke  them  up,  to  prevent 
their  being  used  by  any  one  else.  Upon  his 
making  this  known  to  me,  I referred  him  to 
Acts  xix:  19,  for  an  account  of  a similar  event. 

He  will  be  referred  to  again  further  on, 


97 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  XXIII. 

Providential  Dealings. 

The  Saviour  always  sought  by  word  and  act 
to  impress  upon  His  hearers  that  God,  His 
Father,  and  their  Father,  who  had  given  Him 
to  save  their  souls,  also  cared  for  their  bodies, 
even  to  the  numbering  of  the  hairs  of  their 
heads.  This  was  a truth  which  was  continu- 
ally placed  before  the  poor  people  at  the  medi- 
cal mission,  most  of  whom  had  to  struggle 
very  hard  at  times  to  make  “both  ends  meet.” 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  all  those 
reached  and  helped  by  the  mission  belonged  to 
the  vicious  classes.  Often  the  privilege  of 
ministering  to  God’s  own  poor  was  gladly  em- 
braced and  enjoyed,  and  the  weekly  evening 
meetings  afforded  good  opportunities  for  the 
demonstration  of  God’s  care  for  their  temporal 
needs  and  welfare.  A book  was  kept  for  re- 
cording requests  for  prayer;  one  page  contain- 
ing the  requests,  and  the  opposite  one  the 
answers  received,  and  many  of  the  latter  were 
registered.  This  gave  a practical  turn  to  the 
meetings,  encouraging  the  people  to  “ask,” 
and  raising  the  spirit  of  expectancy  in  regard 
to  their  receiving  answers,  and  thus  stimulated 
faith  in  prayer  and  the  Hearer  of  prayer. 

One  night  a poor,  ignorant  working  man, 
who  attended  the  mission,  told  the  following 
98 


PROVIDENTIAL  DEALINGS. 


story:  That  morning  his  wife,  five  little  ones 
and  himself,  had  eaten  all  the  food  they  had; 
the  meal  being  finished,  no  work,  no  money, 
and  no  food,  led  the  man  to  gather  his  family 
around  him,  while  in  prayer  he  asked  his 
heavenly  Father  to  help  them  thus:  “O  Lord, 
you  knows  how  it  is  with  us;  I ain’t  got  any 
work,  and  we’ve  got  nothing  left  to  eat;  you 
cares  for  the  birds  and  flowers,  won’t  you  care* 
for  us?”  Tom  arose  from  his  knees,  kissed 
his  wife  and  children,  and  went  out  to  look  for 
a job.  He  had  only  just  turned  the  corner 
of  the  street  in  which  he  lived  when  an  old 
companion  met  him.  “Hallo  Tom,  my  boy, 
how  are  yer?  Why,  I haven’t  seen  yer  for 
months;  and  they  tell  me  as  you’ve  turned 
religious  and  teetotal.” 

“Yes,  Jim,  I think  I was  on  the  wrong  road 
long  enough.” 

“Well,  Tom,  I wish  I was  like  yer,  and  hope 
to  be  some  day.” 

“That’s  right,  Jim,  I’m  glad  to  hear  you  say 
so,  for  I know  there's  nothing  like  serving 
God,  and  now  I’m  out  of  work  I goes  to  Him, 
and  axes  Him  to  help  me,  and  He  does  it.” 

“Why,  Tom,  you  talks  like  a parson,  old  fel- 
lar;  and  it  just  comes  to  my  mind  to  pay  yer 
back  what  I borrowed  of  yer  last  time  we  had 
a spree  together.” 

“What  you  borrowed  of  me?”  asked  Tom 
in  astonishment;  “I  didn’t  know  you  owed  me 
aught.” 

“No,  I s’pose  not,  you  were  too  drunk  then, 
99 


“tell  them/’ 

but  here  it  is,”  and  Jim  placed  a gold  sover- 
eign in  Tom’s  hand. 

As  Tom  said  at  the  meeting,  it  made  him 
tremble  all  over,  for  it  seemed  to  be  “red  hot 
from  heaven.” 

One  evening,  the  thirty-seventh  Psalm  was 
being  read,  and  an  elderly  man  who  was  not 
in  the  habit  of  attending  the  mission  was  pre- 
sent and  remarked  that  the  people  of  God  got 
their  bread  although  they  had  to  beg  it,  while 
the  Psalmist  says,  “I  have  never  seen  the 
righteous  forsaken,  nor  his  seed  begging 
bread.” 

This  remark  led  me  to  narrate  the  following 
personal  experience:  At  the  time  referred  to 
I was  in  need  of  ten  pounds,  and  thought  to 
get  the  loan  of  that  sum  from  some  friend,  but 
could  not  make  up  my  mind  to  ask  anyone 
to  help  me,  for  one  reason  or  another.  Just 
at  the  very  time  it  was  actually  needed,  I was 
astonished  by  receiving  a letter  from  a lady 
hundreds  of  miles  away,  who  knew  nothing 
of  my  need,  and  had  never  helped  me  before, 
but  was  impressed  to  send  a check  for  ten 
pounds,  and  that,  not  as  a loan,  but  a gift. 

As  I narrated  this  incident,  and  watched  the 
effect  upon  my  hearers,  I realized  how  needful 
it  was  to  have  been  placed  in  similar  circum- 
stances oneself,  in  order  to  be  able  to  sym- 
pathize with  and  aid  others;  and  that  might 
explain  why  I had  been  allowed  to  pass 
through  that  experience. 


ioo 


ACROSS  THE  ATLANTIC. 


Chapter  XXIV. 

Across  the  Atlantic. 

In  the  summer  of  1879,  some  friends  con- 
nected with  the  medical  mission  in  Liverpool 
visited  America  and  learned  of  the  proposal  to 
open  a medical  mission  in  Philadelphia.  They 
were  pleased  to  advise  with  the  friends  having 
this  project  in  hand,  and  upon  returning  home 
they  informed  me  of  the  circumstances,  and 
made  some  suggestions  about  my  going  over 
to  aid  in  the  work.  After  prayerfully  consid- 
ering the  matter,  my  wife  and  I decided  that 
we  would  go  if  the  Lord  seemed  so  to  direct. 

An  offer  of  rooms  at  the  mission,  free  of 
rent,  was  made  by  the  friends  in  Philadelphia, 
but  this  was  all  they  were  able  to  provide  for 
us  in  any  way.  Further  consideration  was 
given  to  the  subject,  and  certain  events  trans- 
piring seemed  to  indicate  that  it  was  the  right 
thing  to  go.  It  was  still  open  to  question, 
however,  until  the  morning  of  August  13th, 
when  our  going  had  to  be  finally  decided 
upon,  as  we  would  need  to  sail  one  week  later. 

That  morning  I knelt  in  prayer  with  my 
wife  and  four  children  earnestly  praying  for 
guidance,  and,  rising  from  my  knees,  sat  down 
Bible  in  hand.  As  I did  so,  it  “fell  open,”  and 
my  eye  went  “as  an  arrow  to  the  mark,”  and 
I seemed  to  see  only  one  verse,  Isaiah  xlii: 
16,  “And  I will  bring  the  blind  by  a way  they 

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ACROSS  THE  ATLANTIC. 


know  not:  I will  lead  them  in  paths  that  they 
have  not  known;  I will  make  darkness  light 
before  them;  and  crooked  things  straight. 
These  things  will  I do  unto  them,  and  not 
forsake  them,  saith  the  Lord.”  It  was 
enough;  I turned  to  my  wife  and  we  decided, 
‘‘We  will  go,  for  this  is  evidently  the  Lord’s 
message  to  us.” 

It  was  not  a small  thing  to  take  this  step. 
To  give  up  home  and  friends  was  something, 
but  to  give  up  a certainty  in  the  shape  of  a 
position  with  definite  salary,  for  a seeming 
uncertainty,  and  with  six  in  family,  was  a 
matter  that  needed  very  careful  and  prayerful 
consideration,  and  clear  assurance  that  God 
was  leading,  even  as  He  led  Abraham  to  leave 
his  home  and  country.  He  had  led  me  to 
Portsmouth  dockyard  in  1870,  and  to  Liver- 
pool in  1876,  and  if  now,  in  1879,  He  was 
leading  from  Liverpool  to  America,  we  were 
ready  to  go.  The  same  God  leads  to-day 
those  who  are  willing  to  follow,  although  the 
doing  so  does  not  always  mean  a path  of 
roses,  but  very  often  one  of  thorns. 

In  less  than  two  hours  after  the  experience 
just  related,  we  had  tangible  evidence  of  the 
care  of  our  Heavenly  Father  by  a friend  giving 
twenty  pounds,  and  another  five  pounds, 
towards  meeting  the  expense  of  voyage,  etc., 
and  without  their  being  spoken  to  by  me.* 

* Miss  Weston’s  letter,  reproduced  on  the  preceding  page, 
was  also  written  on  August  13th,  the  day  referred  to,  and 
contained  five  pounds. 


“tell  them.” 

The  work  of  breaking  up  home  soon  began. 
Selling  some  things,  and  packing  others,  and 
bidding  good-bye  to  friends,  were  things  gone 
through  not  without  a pang. 

My  dear  friend,  Mr.  B.  F.  Babcock,  Trea- 
surer of  the  Liverpool  Medical  Mission,  also 
contributed  to  our  “Transit  Fund,”  and  re- 
ceived gifts  from  friends  in  our  behalf,  so  that 
by  the  time  of  our  departure  one  hundred 
guineas  (over  five  hundred  dollars)  had  been 
contributed,  including  ten  pounds  received  at 
the  farewell  meeting,  chiefly  given  by  the  poor 
people  attending  the  mission. 

Among  those  who  helped  us  to  cross  the 
Atlantic  were  Miss  Weston,  Lady  Bell,  Alex- 
ander Balfour,  Esq.,  Samuel  Smith,  Esq., 
M.  P.,  John  Houghton,  Esq.,  Mr.  Douglas 
Hebson,  Rev.  Conrad  S.  Green  and  friends, 
Rev.  William  Lockett,  Mr.  C.  R.  Hurditch 
Mr.  John  Groom,  also  Drs.  G.  B.  Denton, 
Tames  Hakes,  J.  A.  Owles,  Gordon  Smith, 
and  J.  A Howard 

To  all  of  these  friends,  and  others  not  men- 
tioned, I wish  to  record  my  sincere  thanks  for 
kindly  aid  thus  rendered.  Th'ey  made  it  pos- 
sible for  us  to  cross  the  Atlantic,  and  their 
pravers  and  sympathy  helped  us  much  then 
and  since. 

The  dav  of  our  sailing  was  a memorable 
one.  Several  of  the  friends  named  above  came 
to  see  us  off,  and  to  say  “Good  bye,”  in  the 
truest  meaning  of  the  words.  A large  num- 


104 


B.  F.  Babcock,  Esq., 

Treasurer  of  tthe  Liverpool  Medical  Mission,  England, 


“tell  them.” 

ber  of  the  poor  who  had  been  patients  at  the 
missions  were  also  present,  and  as  we  noted 
some  expressions  of  sadness  at  our  leaving 
them,  we  were  reminded  somewhat  of  Paul’s 
farewell,  narrated  in  Acts  xx,  closing  with  the 
words,  “And  they  accompanied  him  unto  the 
ship.” 

It  was  a trying  ordeal  for  all  when  the  S.  S. 
Indiana  bore  us  out  into  mid-stream,  and  home 
and  friends  gradually  faded  from  our  view,  on 
August  20th,  1879. 

U.  S.  Minister  Welch  sailed  in  the  vessel  on 
the  same  trip  on  his  return  from  England, 
where  he  had  been  for  some  years  the  U.  S. 
Minister. 

It  was  in  this  vessel  that  General  U.  S. 
Grant  made  his  memorable  trip  around  the 
world  some  years  before. 


106 


IN  A STRANGE  LAND. 


Chapter  XXV. 

In  a Strange  Land. 

After  a rather  stormy  passage  of  twelve 
days,  we  sighted  Columbia’s  fair  shore  and 
landed  in  Philadelphia.  Mr.  E.  F.  Baldwin, 
who,  with  his  cousin,  Dr.  Kirkpatrick,  had  re- 
cently opened  a medical  mission  in  that  city, 
was  the  first  American  to  welcome  us.  He 
did  so  very  heartily,  as  did  many  other  friends, 
so  that  we  scarcely  realized  that  we  were 
“strangers  in  a strange  land.” 

One  of  the  first  things  Mr.  Baldwin  had  to 
tel!  us  was  that  our  trunks  were  not  to  go  to 
the  mission,  but  to  another  address.  In  ex- 
planation of  this,  he  narrated  the  following 
incident,  which  afforded  a further  proof  of 
“our  Father’s  care”  in  anteceding  our  wants, 
even  as  He  placed  the  coal  in  the  earth  to 
meet  the  needs  of  generations  to  come.  Only 
two  days  before  our  arrival  Mr.  Baldwin  re- 
ceived the  news  of  our  decision  to  come. 
Meantime  the  occupants  of  the  rooms  which 
he  had  offered  for  our  use  had  decided  to  re- 
main. The  thought  of  our  arriving  without 
being  able  to  take  up  our  abode  at  the  mission 
caused  our  friend  considerable  anxiety.  How- 
ever, he  remembered  that  the  usual  monthly 
prayer  meeting  of  half  a dozen  business  men, 
107 


“tell  them.” 

which  he  attended,  met  that  afternoon,  and  he 
resolved  to  ask  prayer  for  us  there.  Having 
told  the  circumstances  to  those  present,  a 
good  brother,  Mr.  William  Edis,  said,  “Don’t 
trouble  about  that,  Brother  Baldwin,  they  can 
go  into  that  house  of  mine;  it's  empty,  except 
some  articles  of  furniture,  which  they  can  use. 
and  they  can  stay  there  as  long  as  they  need 
free  of  rent,  as  they  are  coming  here  to  do 
the  Lord’s  work.” 

Mr.  Baldwin  was  greatly  astonished  and  re- 
joiced. And  yet  we  were  not  allowed  to  know 
of  this  difficulty  until  delivered  from  it.  It 
was  indeed  strange,  in  one  sense,  that  this 
good  friend  should  have  so  readily  offered 
such  a welcome  to  strangers,  but  he  believed 
that  he  acted  in  accordance  with  the  prompt- 
ings of  Providence,  and  so  believes  to  this  day, 
and  so  do  we. 

There  was  one  thing  which  it  was  desirable 
I should  now  accomplish,  if  possible,  viz.,  ob- 
tain a medical  degree,  which  for  various  rea- 
sons I had  been  unable  to  gain  hitherto.  The 
possession  of  this  would  materially  increase 
my  usefulness  in  future  work. 

The  Faculty  of  Jefferson  Medical  College, 
recognizing  my  previous  experience  in  the 
practice  of  medicine,  granted  my  degree  after 
attending  two  sessions  of  lectures. 

The  hundred  guineas  kindly  given  by  friends 
was  about  half  gone  by  the  time  of  landing  in 
Philadelphia,  and  getting  housed;  and  of  the 

jo8 


IN  A STRANGE  LAND. 


.remaining  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  one 
hundred  and  fifty — at  half  rates — had  to  be 
paid  for  college  fees  for  two  years,  leaving 
only  one  hundred  dollars  towards  providing 
for  all  our  needs  for  a year  and  a half. 

Of  course,  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  to 
practice  the  strictest  economy,  and  this  was 
so  done  that  at  the  end  of  eighteen  months  it 
was  found  that  the  total  expenditure  for  six, 
and  the  greater  part  of  the  time  seven,  in  fam- 
ily, was  about  $360;  or  five  dollars  a week  for 
everything  except  rent,  which  was  free  of  cost. 

During  part  of  this  time  things  came  to  a 
“pretty  severe  pass”  at  times,  but  at  each 
juncture  the  crooked  was  made  straight  and 
deliverance  came.  Having  only  one  hundred 
dollars  to  begin  with,  the  remaining  two  hun- 
dred and  sixty  dollars  were  obtained  in  va- 
rious ways.  Our  oldest  boy,  Harry,  for  the 
last  ten  months  of  the  time,  worked  for  Mr. 
Edis  and  received  two  dollars  a week  by  run- 
ning messages,  earning,  in  all,  nearly  one  hun- 
dred dollars. 

The  remainder  of  the  two  hundred  and  sixty 
dollars  needed  was  received  at  different  times, 
in  various  ways,  and  in  such  manner  as  to  in- 
dicate Providential  care.  Part  came  as  gifts, 
and  some  was  earned  by  work  of  various 
kinds. 

Towards  the  last,  the  pinch  became  terribly 
severe,  and  at  times  a meal  was  eaten  without 
any  apparent  certainty  of  the  next;  and  yet 
109 


“tell  them.” 

a meal  time  never  came  but  food  was  there, 
though  humble  the  fare. 

On  one  occasion  a friend  sent  us  a large 
basket  filled  with  provisions  of  all  kinds,  the 
donor  being  unknown  to  this  day.  At  another 
time,  a friend,  Mr.  E.  A.  Jones,  brought  ten 
silver  dollars  from  Mr.  G.  W.  Childs,  whom 
I had  never  then  seen.  Thus  in  some  way  or 
other  the  Lord  did  provide. 

It  may  not  be  out  of  place  here  to  mention 
an  incident  which  gave  striking  evidence  of 
God’s  watchful  care  over  us  in  other  ways. 
One  very  hot  day  in  May,  1880,  I left  home 
for  college,  not  intending  to  return  until  night. 
About  three  o’clock  in  the  afternoon  a strange 
impression  that  “something  was  wrong”  led 
me  to  leave  college  and  go  home.  Arriving 
there,  to  my  dismay,  I found  my  dear  wife  in 
delirium  from  “heat  stroke,”  and  our  five 
children  gathered  together  in  a group  in  fear 
and  trembling.  The  oldest,  Harry,  was  then 
scarcely  eleven  years,  the  youngest  but  two 
months  old,  and  there  was  no  one  else 
in  the  house  at  the  time.  For  six  hours 
the  strongest  measures  were  needed  to  over- 
come the  violence  of  the  attack,  and  her  life 
and  those  of  the  children  were  only  saved  as 
by  a miracle. 

Seven  years  later,  shortly  before  her  death, 
that  dear  wife  and  mother  told  me  that  a terri- 
ble thought  had  seized  her  mind  shortly  be- 
fore my  arrival  home  that  day,  i.  e.,  that  she 


no 


IN  A STRANGE  LAND. 


should  kill  the  children  and  then  herself;  and 
had  I not  arrived  when  I did,  she  in  all  prob- 
ability would  have  carried  out  this  awful 
tragedy.  Is  it  necessary  to  ask,  Who  or  what 
led  me  to  leave  college  and  go  home  that  day? 
Surely  not. 

Truly,  there  is  ‘‘an  eye  that  never  sleeps.” 
Tis  God’s. 

I may  explain  here  concerning  our  son 
Harrv  up  to  the  present  writing.  He  was  ad- 
mitted to  Mr.  D.  L.  Moody’s  Bovs’  School  at 
Mount  Hermon  in  the  fall  of  1881,  and  re- 
mained there  a year.  Mr.  Moody  began  his 
school  in  that  year  with  twenty  little  fellows, 
from  ten  to  twelve  years  of  age.  He  had  two 
farm  cottages  for  them;  a “mother”  in  each 
house  had  ten  in  charge. 

After  working  in  Broadway  stores  for  two 
years,  Harry  spent  a second  year  at  Mr. 
Moody’s,  and  while  there,  in  1886,  the  first 
Students’  Conference  was  held  at  Mt.  Her- 
mon, out  of  which  grew  the  Student  Volun- 
teer Movement  for  Foreign  Missions.  My 
son  was  one  of  the  first  hundred  who  joined 
the  movement  at  that  time.  He  afterwards 
attended  Pennington  Seminary,  N.  J.,  and  was 
for  two  years  at  Princeton  College.  Here  he 
“fought  his  own  way”  financially  almost  en- 
tirely. In  1896,  he  obtained  his  M.  D.,  and 
is  now  “awaiting  orders”  from  the  Lord,  to 
whom  he  was  given  by  his  parents  as  a babe, 
and  to  whom  he  gave  himself  in  1880. 


m 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  XXVI. 

Just  in  Time. 

It  would  be  specially  pleasant  to  be  able  to 
tell  of  all  the  kindness  shown  by  friends,  and 
of  the  good  hand  of  our  God  upon  us  during 
these  months;  but  although  this  cannot  be 
done,  some  instances  are  given  in  this  chapter. 

Not  long  after  landing  in  America,  my  dear 
wife  remarked  one  day  how  much  she  wished 
she  had  her  old  easy  chair  to  rest  in,  as  she 
often  felt  tired,  and  was  not  then  in  good 
health.  The  next  day  some  friend,  to  the  pre- 
sent unknown,  sent  her  an  easy  rocking  chair. 
“Doth  God  care  for  oxen?”  was  once  asked. 
Yes,  and  for  sparrows,  too.  How  much  mere 
then  for  His  children? 

As  the  time  for  graduation  approached,  the 
usual  fee  of  thirty  dollars  was  needed,  but  no 
money  was  in  hand  to  meet  it.  A dear  lady 
friend,  Mrs.  A.  P.  Solomon,  was  led  to  give 
the  amount  just  when  required,  and  add  this 
to  many  previous  kind  acts.  The  even  ng  be- 
fore graduation  had  to  be  spent  by  one  of  the 
graduates  in  mending  his  shoes,  so  as  to  ap- 
pear decently.  It  had  been  a hard  struggle, 
but  the  end  came,  and  with  it  victory,  in  the 
possession  of  the  desired  degree  of  M.  D.,  and 
with  the  commendation  of  the  faculty,  on 


1 1 2 


JUST  IN  TIME. 


March  12th,  1881.  The  graduating  exercises 
were  held  in  the  Academy  of  Music,  the  plat- 
form covered  with  bouquets  of  flowers  for  the 
graduates,  making  a floral  frame  around  the 
faculty,  trustees  and  graduates.  A little 
group  of  a mother  and  five  children  were 
specially  interested  in  one  of  the  graduates, 
and  waved  and  clapped  as  he  ascended  the 
platform.  They  had  been  sharers  in  the 
struggles  of  various  kinds  which  had  preceded 
that  event,  and  could  not  be  blamed  for  ex- 
pressing their  interest  and  joy  in  the  success 
attained. 

The  following  days  were  very  trying;  meals 
were  provided,  but  with  less  and  less  prospect 
of  the  next.  On  March  22d,  our  family  sat 
down  to  the  last  morsel  of  food:  breakfast 
consisting  of  dry  bread,  coffee  and  sugar. 
Everything,  it  seemed,  had  come  to  an  end. 
The  clouds  gathered  thick  and  dark,  so  that 
we  could  scarcely  “look  up,”  where  we  had 
been  looking,  for  guidance  as  to  our  future 
sphere  of  labor,  now  that  the  mission  was  in 
full  operation,  and  yet  unable  to  contribute 
towards  my  support.  We  were  silent — dumb 
and  helpless.  Was  it  all  a great  blunder,  our 
leaving  home?  No,  it  surely  could  not  be: 
and  we  still  tried  to  “hold  on.”  As  John 
Newton  wrote: 

“ His  love  in  times  past  forbids  me  to  think 
He’D  leave  me  at  last  in  trouble  to  sink; 

Each  sweet  Ebenezer  I have  in  review 

Confirms  His  good  pleasure  to  help  me  cjuite  through.” 

H3 


“tell  them.” 

About  nine  o’clock  that  morning  the  mis- 
sion door  bell  rang,  and  a 'letter  was  received 
from  our  good  friend,  Mr.  B.  F.  Babcock,  of 
Liverpool.  It  had  been  twelve  days  on  its  way, 
but  it  came  just  in  time  for  the  next  meal,  and 
had  more  than  enough  for  that  in  it,  for  it 
contained  a check  for  ten  pounds  (fifty  dol- 
lars). Shall  I attempt  to  tell  the  reader  of 
the  mingled  feelings  with  which  it  was  eagerly 
received,  read  and  rejoiced  over?  I cannot. 

The  letter  suggested  that  I should  go  to 
New  York  and  see  two  gentlemen  who  were 
named,  and  who  had  expressed  a desire  to  see 
such  a work  in  New  York  when  they  were 
visiting  Liverpool. 

Calling  upon  my  friend,  Mr.  Edis,  that 
morning,  and  telling  him  the  “good  news,” 
and  of  my  intention  to  go  on  to  New  York 
the  following  day,  we  rejoiced  together.  His 
partner,  Mr.  Mockridge,  overhearing  our  con- 
versation, said:  “I’m  glad  to  hear  it,  doctor,” 
and,  taking  out  his  pocket  book,  he  added, 
“I’ve  got  something  here  which  I’ve  been  car- 
rying for  three  months,  and  I think  it  must 
be  meant  for  you.”  So  saying,  he  handed  me 
a ticket  from  Philadelphia  to  New  York. 

Mr.  Edward  A.  Jones,  one  of  my  first  and 
fast  friends  in  Philadelphia,  had  left  that  city 
for  New  York  some  months  previously,  and 
the  following  morning  found  me  at  his  office 
in  New  York,  the  only  man  I then  knew  in 
that  city. 


114 


FIRST  EXPERIENCES  IN  NEW  YORK. 


Chapter  XXVII. 

First  Experiences  in  New  York. 

It  was  indeed  a great  pleasure  to  meet  my 
old  friend,  Mr.  Jones,  and  to  tell  him  of  all  the 
Lord’s  leadings.  His  office  was  at  Fulton 
Street  and  Broadway,  and  remembering  that 
the  old  noon-day  prayer  meeting  was  held  on 
Fulton  Street,  I asked  that  we  might  go  there 
and  see  the  man  and  the  place  about  which 
I had  read  in  1864 — seventeen  years  before — 
in  “The  Power  of  Prayer.” 

It  was  a great  privilege  to  be  there,  and 
one  enjoyed  many  times  since,  as  my  friend- 
ship with  the  founder,  Mr.  Lanphier,  has 
ripened  and  deepened.  It  was  well  to  spend 
the  first  hour  in  the  city  in  such  a place,  and 
to  ask  prayer  for  guidance  in  the  new  under- 
taking. (As  each  year  has  been  completed, 
the  noon  hour  has  been  spent  in  the  Fulton 
Street  meeting,  in  memory  of  March  23d, 
1881.) 

One  of  the  next  things  to  do  was  to  wa.t 
upon  the  two  gentlemen  named  in  the  letter 
from  Liverpool.  But,  upon  our  calling  at 
their  offices,  the  one  declined  ro  join  in  the 
project,  as  he  was  already  busily  engaged  in 
other  Christian  work;  the  other,  strangely 
enough,  declined  even  to  see  us,  and  although 

115 


THREE  NEW  YORK  FRIENDS. 


Mr.  Edward  A.  Jones,  Mr.  John  C.  Lanphier, 

Treasurer  Dr.  Gustavus  A.  Sabine.  Founder  of  the 

I.  M.  M.  Society.  Fulton  St.  Prayer  Meeting. 


FIRST  EXPERIENCES  IN  NEW  YORK. 


we  called  again  two  days  later,  he  treated  us 
in  the  same  peculiar  manner. 

This  was  indeed  a great  surprise,  and  one 
that  at  first  quite  staggered  us.  The  fact  was, 
I had  come  to  the  city  feeling  assured  of  a 
warm  welcome  from  these  men,  who,  as  I was 
informed,  desired  to  see  a medical  mission  in 
New  York.  My  expectation  was  like  that  of 
the  disciples,  when  they  followed  the  man 
carrying  the  pitcher  of  water  and  found  all 
things  “prepared,”  as  their  Master  had  said, 
but  my  experience  was  certainly  not  in  accord 
therewith.* 

As  we  two  men  stood  upon  Broadway, 
staggered  by  the  action  of  these  men,  wonder- 
ing what  it  could  mean,  and  whether  I had 
made  a mistake,  there  was  brought  to  my  re- 
membrance, in  a very  vivid  manner,  the  Expe- 
rience of  the  disciples  upon  the  stormy  lake. 

They  received  the  audible  command  of  the 
Master  to  get  into  the  boat  and  go  over  to 
“the  other  side,”  but  when  they  essayed  to  do 


* The  strangest  thing  is,  perhaps,  that  although  seven  or 
eight  of  the  nearest  relatives  of  the  first  man  referred  to,  in- 
cluding both  his  parents,  have  given  and  give  to  this  work, 
he  has  never  giveti  a cent.  The  wife  of  the  other  is  a regular 
contributor,  too,  but  he  has  never  yet  given  a cent  to  the 
work.  And  both  are  millionaires.  Explain  it?  I cannot 
do  so.  I can  only  call  to  mind  the  experience  of  the  Sa- 
viour Himself  with  the  rich  young  man.  He  could  more 
readily  get  poor,  struggling  fishermen  to  follow  Him,  and 
“forsake  all”  in  doing  so.  “Even  His  brethren  did  not 
believe  in  Him.'"  Neither  did  these  men  believe  in  me,  evi- 
dently, or  they  would  gladly  have  embraced  and  not  lost 
their  opportunity  of  doing  good. 

*17 


“tell  them.” 

so,  they  had  to  “down  sails”  and  “out  oars” 
and  toil  all  night  until  “He  came  walking  on 
the  sea,”  and  delivered  them.  There  was  no 
question  as  to  their  being  in  the  path  of  duty, 
but  it  became  one  of  opposition  and  danger. 

Feeling  assured  that  we  were  in  the  right 
path,  we  decided  to  “go  ahead”  as  God  should 
lead. 

One  of  the  friends  whom  Mr.  Jones  and  I 
called  upon  on  the  day  of  my  arrival  in  the 
city  was  Mr.  R.  R.  McBurney,  the  veteran 
Y.  M.  C.  A.  Secretary,  who  gave  us  the  bene- 
fit of  his  wise  counsel,  and  has  ever  evinced 
an  interest  in  the  cause. 

A letter  of  introduction  was  given  to  a 
Christian  physician,  Dr.  G.  A.  Sabine,  by  his 
son,  the  Rev.  W.  T.  Sabine,  D.  D.,  and  the 
doctor  gave  us  a warm  welcome.  After  se- 
curing promises  of  co-operation  from  a few 
other  physicians,  ministers  and  other  friends, 
the  New  York  Medical  Mission  was  founded 
in  Dr.  Sabine’s  house,  46  West  Twenty-third 
Street,  and  he  remained  a warm  friend  and 
contributor  to  the  cause  until  his  death  in  No- 
vember, 1896,  at  nearly  eighty-four  years  of 
age. 

It  was  hard  work,  in  view  of  the  following 
facts,  to  obtain  all  the  needed  personal  and 
pecuniary  aid;  but  He  who  sent  us  to  build 
aided  us  in  the  building. 

First.  I was  a stranger. 

Second.  There  were  so  many  existing 
1x8 


FIRST  EXPERIENCES  IN  NEW  YORK. 


claims  upon  the  time  and  resources  of  really 
generous  people. 

Third.  The  future  welfare  of  the  work  made 
it  desirable  that  it  should  not  be  placed  upon 
a sectarian  basis,  and  thus  it  was  likely  to  lie, 
at  least  for  a time,  the  servant  of  all  but  the 
child  of  none. 

Fourth.  Most  persons  seemed  to  be  quite 
ignorant  as  to  the  character  and  value  of  medi- 
cal missions. 

But  in  spite  of  these  drawbacks,  success  was 
given,  as  will  be  further  narrated. 

Having  secured  the  promise  of  co-operation 
of  fifteen  men,  physicians  and  others,  premises 
were  rented  at  No.  5 East  Broadway  (Chatham 
Square)  and  a large  store  fitted  up  and  opened 
as  a free  dispensary  and  mission,  in  what  is 
known  as  the  Fourth  Ward,  said  to  be  the 
wickedest  part  of  the  city. 

This  was  opened  in  June,  1881;  and  notice 
of  its  opening  being  given  in  various  papers, 
the  ‘‘sick  poor”  soon  began  to  come.  The 
first  day  there  were  seventeen,  but  the  num- 
bers soon  ranged  to  between  fifty  and  sixty 
a day  for  six  days  in  the  week. 

At  first,  in  visiting  those  too  sick  to  leave 
their  homes  in  the  slums  of  the  city,  it  was 
difficult  to  find  them.  A certain  name  and 
address  would  be  given— say,  Mrs.  Murphy, 
30  Cherry  Street.  Upon  arriving  at  the  house 
bearing  the  number  given,  the  group  of  men 
and  women  around  the  doorway  would  seem 

119 


“tell  them.” 


almost  purposely  to  block  the  entrance;  when 
I would  ask  if  Mrs.  Murphy  did  not  live  there 
— “No,  sir;  no  such  person  lives  here.”  Upon 
being-  informed  that  I was  “the  Doctor,”  and 
that  I had  come  to  see  her,  understanding  that 
she  was  sick,  the  group  would  exchange 
glances,  and,  as  I was  about  to  leave,  one 
would  burst  out  with,  “What  name  did  you 
say.  sir,  Mrs.  Murphy?”  “Yes,  Mrs.  Mur- 
phy.” “Oh!  Mrs.  Murphy,  Mrs.  Murphy; 
why,  yes,  Doctor;  there’s  a woman  by  that 
name  on  the  top  floor  back,”  and  the  crowd 
would  divide  and  entrance  be  gained  when  it 
could  not  otherwise  have  been  obtained. 

In  the  evenings  the  Mission  was  opened  for 
Gospel  meetings,  and  poor  drunkards  and 
outcasts  would  come  in,  many  being  saved, 
“body  and  soul.”  One  night  an  Irishman 
stood  up  in  the  meeting  and  said,  “I’ve  been 
listening  to  all  you’ve  been  saying,  and  it  was 
good,  but  for  the  life  of  me  I can’t  tell  what 
persuasion  ye  are,  and  I’d  like  to  know.” 

I said  that  I would  be  pleased  to  reply,  and 
answered  him  as  follows:  “First,  we’ve  been 
persuaded  that  we  are  all  lost  sinners ; second, 
we’ve  been  persuaded  that  God  gave  His  Son 
to  save  us;  third,  we’ve  been  persuaded  t^ 
trust  Hi.n  to  save  us;  and  fourth,  we’re  trying 
to  persuade  others  to  do  the  same.  This  is 
our  persuasion.” 

The  man  was  fully  satisfied  and  resumed 
his  seat. 


120 


DISCOURAGEMENTS  AND  DELIVERANCES. 


Chapter  XXVIII. 

Discouragements  and  Deliverances. 

One  of  the  things  which  at  first  was  very 
discouraging  was  to  notice  how  readily  the 
devil  seemed  to  have  all  the  money  he  needed 
to  carry  on  his  work,  in  the  liquor  saloons  and 
such  places  around  the  mission,  while  we  were 
often  unable  to  get  money  to  carry  on  this 
work  for  God.  To  see  these  palaces  well 
lighted  and  fitted  up  with  all  that  money  could 
furnish;  to  see  the  mission  without  money  to 
replace  broken  windows,  smashed  by  the 
roughs;  or  to  pay  for  other  needed  things;  to 
go  home  tired  late  at  night  not  possessing  the 
five  cents  needed  to  ride  on  a car;  were  things 
trying  to  flesh  and  blood  of  ordinary  kind, 
such  as  we  happened  to  be  made  of,  and  it 
took  all  the  grit  and  grace  we  possessed  to 
“stick  to  it”  under  these  circumstances. 

I am  thankful,  however,  to  say  that  I was 
enabled  to  do  so  by  God’s  help. 

In  November,  1881,  the  constant  strain  of 
work  and  care,  with  exposure  to  severe 
weather,  induced  a bad  attack  of  sickness. 

On  a certain  day  I was  barely  able  to  attend 
to  the  fifty  or  more  patients  who  clamored  for 
help,  and  yet  was  less  able  to  say  “no”  to  them 
and  send  them  away. 


121 


“tell  them.” 

The  last  patient  had  been  attended  to  and 
had  passed  out,  and  I was  about  to  lock  the 
door  of  the  dispensary  and  wend  my  way 
home;  a long,  weary  journey,  having  no 
money  for  car  fare,  when  another  patient 
came.  He  begged  that  I would  give  him  some 
more  of  the  medicine  he  had  been  taking.  I 
confess  that  it  cost  me  an  effort  to  turn  the 
key  and  attend  to  him,  but  it  was  well  for  me 
that  I did  not  refuse. 

“Make  you  His  service  your  delight;  He’ll 
make  your  wants  His  care.”  As  we  returned 
to  the  door  on  the  way  out,  I noticed  that  a 
letter  had  been  placed  in  the  box.  Thrusting 
it  into  my  pocket,  feeling  too  weary  to  see 
what  it  was,  or  from  whom  it  came,  I pro- 
ceeded towards  home. 

I had,  however,  gone  but  a few  paces  when 
it  occurred  to  me  that  possibly  it  might  be  a 
“call”  from  a patient  too  sick  to  come  to  the 
dispensary.  Opening  it  by  the  light  of  a 
street  lamp,  I found  in  it  a half  sheet  of  note 
paper,  on  which  was  written,  “Your  heavenly 
Father  knoweth  that  ye  have  need  of  these 
things,”  and  a one  dollar  bill.  Thus  was  the 
need  met  and  car  fare  and  other  necessaries 
provided.  The  sender  is  to  this  day  unknown 
to  me,  but  that  half  sheet  of  note  paper  has 
been  kept. 

The  next  day  I was  unable  to  leave  my  bed 
till  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  was  seated  by  the 
kitchen  fire  (the  only  fire  in  the  house),  when 


122 


DISCOURAGEMENTS  AND  DELIVERANCES. 


a gentleman — an  entire  stranger — called.  He 
chatted  pleasantly  for  a few  minutes  without 
giving  his  name  and  without  my  telling  him 
of  our  need. 

As  he  left  the  house  he  shook  hands  with 
my  wife,  and  at  the  same  time  placed  a five 
dollar  gold  piece  in  her  hand,  “to  get  some- 
thing for  the  doctor,”  he  said. 

When  he  had  gone,  we  wondered  who  he 
was,  and  what  had  led  him  to  call  upon  us  and 
act  so  strangely;  but  a few  days  later  our  at- 
tention was  called  to  an  article  in  the  New 
York  Witness,  which  told  us  all  about  the  cir- 
cumstances. 

In  the  article  referred  to,  the  writer  ex- 
plained that  while  engaged  at  his  desk  in  his 
office,  he  was  startled  by,  as  it  seemed,  some 
one  speaking  the  name,  “Dowkontt,”  in  his 
ear.  He  turned  around,  but  no  one  was  there. 
He  resumed  his  writing,  but  again  the  name 
sounded  in  his  ear,  or  heart. 

“Why,”  said  he  to  himself,  “that  is  the  name 
of  the  doctor  who  recently  opened  that  medi- 
cal mission  in  the  city.  Strange  that  his  name 
should  come  to  my  mind  like  that.  Perhaps 
there  is  something  the  matter  with  him;  I’ll 
go  and  see.” 

So  saying,  he  put  on  his  hat  and  came  to 
the  dispensary,  which  was  about  five  or  six 
minutes’  walk  from  his  office.  When  he 
reached  the  mission,  he  found  a notice  on  the 
door  saying  that  the  doctor  had  been  taken 
sick  and  could  not  be  there  that  day. 

123 


“tell  them.” 

As  he  turned  away,  he  remarked  to  himself, 
“If  I knew  where  he  lived,  I’d  go  and  see  him, 
but  as  I don’t  know,  I can’t  go.” 

He  resumed  his  work  once  more,  but  had 
not  proceeded  far  when  the  same  peculiar  ex- 
perience was  met  with.  Calling  one  of  his 
clerks,  he  said,  “Bring  me  the  New  York 
Directory.  I must  find  him  if  I can.” 

The  directory  for  New  York  was  searched 
in  vain,  and  oncemore  he  proceeded, but  again 
came  the  call  or  name. 

Calling  now  for  the  Brooklyn  Directory, 
he  discovered  our  address,  and  as  it  was  now 
nearly  time  for  him  to  close  his  office  and  go 
home,  he  decided  to  leave  his  business  and 
find  us  as  soon  as  possible. 

This  was  not  an  easy  task,  however,  but 
about  an  hour  after  leaving  his  office  he  found 
the  house  in  which  we  resided,  with  the  result 
as  previously  stated. 

A remarkable  experience,  indeed,  was  it 
not?  The  striking  thing  being  that  I did  not 
know  who  he  was  or  what  had  led  him  to  call ; 
I had  only  seen  him,  I afterwards  discovered, 
at  the  opening  of  our  mission  in  Chatham 
Square  in  the  previous  June,  and  then  only  as 
one  of  many  who  were  present. 

When  we  read  the  account  in  the  Witness , 
it  was  with  mingled  feelings  indeed. 

It  was  hard  to  see  ourselves  “in  print”  after 
that  fashion,  as  we  naturally  shrank  from  let- 
ting our  poverty  be  known,  but  we  felt,  “It  is 
124 


DISCOURAGEMENTS  AND  DELIVERANCES. 

the  Lord's  doing,  and  marvellous  in  our  eyes,” 
and  so  acquiesced. 

Some  of  the  readers  of  the  Witness , touched 
by  the  story,  sent  to  the  writer  various  sums, 
in  all  nearly  one  hundred  dollars,  within  the 
next  few  days.  And  upon  the  story  being  re- 
printed some  weeks  later  in  the  Christian 
Herald  of  England,  it  was  read  by  some  of  the 
poor  patients  in  Liverpool,  who  gathered  to- 
gether, talked  it  over,  cried  it  over,  prayed  it 
over,  and  planned  to  send  some  help  to  us  in 
New  York. 

And  so  it  is  eAudently  possible,  in  a great 
city  of  wealth,  to  struggle  on  in  a good  work, 
and  often  lack  the  means  to  do  the  work;  or 
to  support  life  at  times.  But  God  sends  His 
“wingless  angels”  on  His  errands  of  mercy  at 
such  times.  Oh!  for  those  who  listen  for  His 
voice,  and  hasten  to  obey,  as  this  good  man 
did.  If  all  obeyed  as  he  did,  want  would  soon 
be  done  away. 


"teli.  them.” 


Chapter  XXIX. 

A Silver  D. 

During  the  first  few  years  of  our  American 
life,  many  difficulties  were  met  with  and  over- 
come, deliverance  being  sent  in  such  a man- 
ner as  to  leave  no  doubt  as  to  the  actual  De- 
liverer. Although  unseen  by  the  natural 
vision,  God’s  watchfulness,  love  and  power 
were  so  manifest  that  at  times  it  seemed  as  if 
we  really  did  see  the  hand  of  the  Deliverer. 
But,  if  not,  why  doubt  the  fact  of  His  exist- 
ence and  love? 

The  friend  who  sent  the  dollar,  as  told  in 
the  last  chapter,  has  never  yet  been  seen  or 
known  to  the  writer;  but  can  there  be  any 
doubt  of  his  or  her  existence  and  sympathy, 
because  as  yet  unseen?  The  envelope  was 
addressed  to  the  right  person,  and  contained 
tangible  evidence  of  sympathy  and  power  to 
aid  in  a practical  manner  one  in  need.  So 
with  our  Father  in  heaven,  whose  power,  wis- 
dom and  love  are  manifest  in  all  His  works, 
though  He  Himself  as  yet  be  invisible  to  mor- 
tal eye.  • 

To  know  of  a surety  in  one’s  inner  con- 
sciousness that  God  is,  and  that  He  watches 
over  His  creatures,  even  the  sparrows;  to 
know  that  He  is  my  Father,  who  thinketh 
126 


A SILVER  D. 


upon  me,  and  has  manifested  this  by  actually 
hearing  and  answering  my  prayer,  “uttered 
or  unexpressed,”  is  to  know  the  sublimest 
truth  possible  to  man  on  earth.  But  how  we 
shrink  from  obtaining  such  knowledge  when 
it  can  only  come  to  us  as  the  result  of  being 
brought  low  into  the  depths  of  trouble. 

Many  times  during  these  early  years,  and 
some  of  the  succeeding  ones,  has  the  five  or 
ten  cent  thank  offering  of  the  patients  been 
all  the  money  taken  home  at  the  close  of  the 
day.  How  little  did  these  pojr  people  think 
or  know  of  these  things! 

The  day  that  President  Garfield  was  buried 
was  a general  holiday  and  the  weather  was 
very  hot.  The  whole  of  the  way  to  the  ferry 
had  to  be  walked  in  the  burning  rays  of  the 
sun.  As  the  perspiration  poured  off  my  face, 
I began  to  inwardly  complain,  when,  as  a flash, 
there  was  brought  to  my  remembrance  these 
words:  “Rejoice,  in  that  ye  are  made  partakers 
of  Christ’s  sufferings.”  The  effect  was  magi- 
cal! and  of  such  a character  that  I actually 
laughed  outright  at  the  thought  of  such  a 
comparison.  It  had,  however,  the  desired  ef- 
fect, for  all  the  murmuring  spirit  fled,  and  I 
went  on  my  way  in  a different  mood.  I had 
debated  as  to  my  going  to  the  mission  at  all 
on  that  day,  it  being  a holiday;  but  inasmuch 
as  people  do  not  all  at  once  get  well  because 
of  a holiday,  I decided  to  go.  Strangely 
enough,  on  that  day  the  patients  gave  more 


127 


“tell  them.” 

than  twice  as  much  as  the  largest  amount 
contributed  on  any  previous  occasion.  Often- 
times a day  would  pass  without  a cent  being 
given,  while  on  others  only  a few  cents  would 
be  received. 

In  December,  1882,  funds  were  very  low 
indeed,  and  during  Christmas  week  scarcely 
anything  was  obtained  beyond  bare  subsis- 
tence. Each  day  of  the  week  my  children 
were  anxiously  waiting  to  be  taken  to  see  the 
stores  or  shops  all  filled  with  Christmas  goods, 
but  to  take  them  only  to  see  that  which  they 
could  not  possess,  would  be  very  trying  to  all. 
Day  after  day  they  were  made  to  hope  for  bet- 
ter things,  until  Saturday  arrived,  and  I 
wended  my  way  home  having  only  enough  to 
pay  the  ferry  over  the  river,  and  then  walk. 

A dear  friend  brought  a toy  sleigh  for  the 
children,  which  I carried  home  and  we  “made 
the  most  of  it.”  Then,  gathering  all  together, 
we  had  a good  time  of  singing  before  retiring 
for  the  night.  Next  day,  the  one  before 
Christmas,  although  we  had  something  to  eat, 
I had  not  even  two  cents  to  pay  the  ferry  to 
get  to  New  York  to  conduct  the  Sunday 
school  and  evening  meeting.  However, 
shortly  before  the  time  for  leaving,  a friend 
called  and  furnished  the  needed  means. 

Arriving  home  about  eleven  o’clock  that 
night,  my  wife,  Mr.  Summers,  my  first  stu- 
dent, and  myself  sat  together  talking  over  the 
condition  of  affairs. 


128 


A SILVER  I>. 


Suddenly,  a few  minutes  before  midnight, 
we  were  startled  by  a sharp  ring  at  the  door 
bell,  which  at  the  same  time  awoke  four  of  the 
five  children  out  of  their  sleep.  They  had 
gone  to  bed  with  visions  of  Santa  Claus  and 
his  descent  with  wonderful  things.  Hearing 
our  exclamations  of  surprise,  they  rushed 
down  stairs. 

Going  to  the  door  as  quickly  as  possible, 
supposing  some  one  was  sick  and  needed  aid, 
I was  astonished  not  to  see  any  one  there. 
In  vain  I looked  around,  no  one  could  be  seen 
upon  the  street,  although  the  moon  was  shin- 
ing very  brightly.  My  wife  and  Mr.  Sum- 
mers, not  hearing  me  address  any  one,  came 
to  the  door,  and  I said,  “How  peculiar  it  is.” 
There  was  no  mistake  as  to  the  bell  being 
rung,  but  how  anyone  could  ring  it  and  get 
away  so  quickly  seemed  a mystery. 

“Why,  George,  what  is  this?”  said  my  wife, 
as  she  directed  my  attention  to  the  doorstep, 
on  which  lay  something  glittering  in  the 
moonlight,  forming  the  initial  letter  of  our 
name,  “D.”  Closer  inspection  revealed  ten 
bright,  new,  silver  dollars,  all  bearing  the  date 
of  the  year,  1882.  After  another  fruitless 
search  for  the  messenger,  there  was  nothing 
to  do  but  close  the  door  and  thank  the  Sender, 
though  unable  to  thank  the  bringer.* 

*Not  until  1896 — fourteen  years  later — did  I know  who 
brought  those  silver  dollars.  It  was  the  friend  referred  to  in 
the  previous  chapter,  who  left  his  desk  to  find  me  when 
sick,  and  gave  me  five  dollars  in  gold. 

129 


“tell  them/’ 


Gathering  our  four  children  together,  we 
seven  knelt  down  and  thanked  our  Father  in 
heaven.  Upon  rising  from  our  knees,  our 
eldest  boy,  Harry,  asked,  “Mother,  is  it  all 
real,  or  are  we  dreaming?”  No,  indeed,  it 
was  no  dream. 

All  those  dollars  were  readily  cashed  when 
presented.  After  assuring  our  children  that 
it  was  all  real,  my  wife  remarked,  “George, 
dear,  I think  we  ought  to  keep  one  of  those 
dollars  in  remembrance  of  this  occurrence.” 

We  did,  and  have  it  to  this  day.  Often, 
since  then,  we  should  have  been  glad  of  a dol- 
lar, or  part  of  one,  but  we  could  not  spend 
that  one,  as  it  had  not  only  been  consecrated 
but  redeemed. 

For  a lady,  Mrs.  A.  L.  Corwin,  hearing  of 
this  deliverance,  sent  two  dollars  to  my  wife, 
so  that  she  should  not  be  at  any  loss  for  sav- 
ing that  one  as  a memorial. 

Later  on,  thinking  over  this  event,  I could 
not  but  feel  thankful  that  our  children  had  re- 
ceived such  a life  long  lesson.  Do  they  not 
forget  it?  No,  not  to  this  day,  and  they  never 
will.  Better  to  them  by  far  than  the  Christ- 
mas presents  they  might  have  had,  had  we 
possessed  the  means  earlier,  was  this  practical 
illustration  of  “our  Father’s  care.”  Yet  we 
had  to  be  “brought  low”  to  obtain  the  help. 
How  often  our  hardest  trials  are  made  to  be- 
come our  greatest  blessings,  and  thus,  by 
going  down,  we  ascend. 


UNEXPECTED  VISITORS. 


Chapter  XXX. 

Unexpected  Visitors. 

About  two  o’clock  one  Saturday  afternoon 
in  September,  1883,  having  seen  all  the  pa- 
tients at  the  dispensary,  I prepared  to  go 
home,  but  remembered  that  there  were  but  a 
few  cents  in  the  house  when  I left  that  morn- 
ing. It,  however,  occurred  to  me  that  the 
monthly  rent  (three  dollars)  paid  for  the  cellar 
under  the  mission,  was  due  on  that  day.  I 
directed  my  janitor  to  go  to  the  man,  who 
lived  only  a few  doors  away,  and  get  the 
amount,  intending  to  share  it  with  him.  He 
reported,  “The  man  is  out,  doctor,  but  they 
expect  him  every  minute.” 

“All  right,”  I replied,  “I  suppose  we  will 
have  to  wait.” 

At  the  end  of  ten  minutes  he  went  again, 
but  the  man  had  not  returned,  and  so  he  con- 
tinued going  every  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  un- 
til in  this  way  over  two  hours  had  passed. 
My  janitor  was  a godly  man,  son  of  an  old 
physician,  who  had  met  with  reverses.  He 
entered  very  heartily  into  all  the  work  of  the 
mission,  and  I treated  him,  as,  indeed,  he  was, 
a brother  in  the  Lord.  It  was  just  half  past 
four  and  the  man  had  not  yet  returned.  The 
waiting  was  very  tiresome,  especially  as  I 
knew  that  I was  expected  home,  and  had 
promised  to  return  as  soon  as  possible  and 
“bring  something  with  me.” 

131 


“tell  them.” 

At  4.30,  a fine  young  man — Mr.  William 
Hendrickson — walked  into  the  dispensary. 
At  first  I did  not  recognize  him,  and  we  had 
not  met  for  many  months.  After  the  usual 
salutations,  he  remarked,  “ Doctor,  I’ve 
brought  you  something  for  your  work  from 
my  brother  George.” 

“Indeed,  I shall  be  very  glad  to  receive  it.” 
I replied. 

He  then  proceeded  to  count  five  dollar  bills 
until  he  had  piled  up  one  hundred  dollars,  and 
as  my  janitor  and  I looked  on  in  wonder  and 
astonishment,  he  placed  another  five  dollars 
on  the  top  of  the  pile,  saying,  “There,  doctor, 
I want  to  give  a little  myself  for  the  privilege 
of  bringing  this  from  my  brother.” 

It  would  be  impossible  to  say  just  how  we 
felt  or  looked,  but  I remember  what  we  did 
I just  told  our  friend  of  the  exact  condition 
we  were  in,  and  it  would  be  difficult  to  say 
whether  the  giver  or  the  receivers  rejoiced 
most;  but.  we  three  knelt  down  together  and 
thanked  our  Father  in  heaven.  Now,  I had 
not  seen  this  young  man  or  his  brother  for 
months;  they  knew  nothing  of  our  circum- 
stances, yet  they  were  led  to  act.  Who,  or 
what,  led  them  to  do  so?  Chance?  Surely 
there  can  be  but  one  answer — God.* 


*One  Sunday  evening,  in  November,  1897,  I was  privi- 
leged to  speak  in  the  Presbyterian  Church,  Newtown,  Long 
Island,  of  which  Mr.  W.  Hendrickson  is  now  the  pastor.  It 
was  a great  privilege  to  stand  beside  my  friend  and  plead  the 
cause  of  Medical  Missions  in  his  church. 


ROOSEVELT  STREET  MEDICAL  MISSION. 

From  1882  to  1892,  this  Mission  was  in  operation.  Dr.  Summers  painted  the  texts  on  the  wall.  For 
thirty  years  previously  the  place  was  a notorious  liquor  saloon.  The  building  a id  adjacent 
alleys  were  pulled  dcwn  in  1897. 


“tell  them.” 

About  a year  after  this  I had  the  following 
singular  experience:  I was  present  one  day  at 
the  Fulton  Street  Prayer  Meeting,'  and  at  its 
close  was  int;  oduced  to  a young  man  who  was 
out  of  employment  and  had  a wife  and  two  or 
three  children  to  support.  I had  in  my  pocket 
all  the  money  which  I then  possessed,  a silver 
dollar  and  a few  cents.  The  next  day  was 
rent  day,  and  this  was  all  I had  towards  it. 
While  talking  to  him,  I was  strongly  im- 
pressed to  give  him  the  dollar;  it  seemed  as  if 
the  Lord  even  spoke,  telling  me  to  do  so,  as 
there  came  to  my  mind  with  peculiar  force  the 
words,  “Give,  and  it  shall  be  given  you.”  I 
“answered  back,”  like  Ananias,  when  directed 
to  go  to  Saul,  and  said  in  my  heart,  “Lord, 
this  is  all  the  money  I’ve  got,  and  to-morrow 
is  rent  day,  but  if  you  say  so,  of  course  I’ll 
give  it  him.”  Feeling  assured  that  it  was 
what  the  Lord  wanted  me  to  do,  I did  what 
under  other  circumstances  would  have  ap- 
peared verv  foolish,  and  gave  my  only  dollar 
to  the  young  man. 

That  afternoon,  while  attending  to  the 
crowd  of  patients  at  the  dispensary,  the  young 
man  who  had  brought  the  one  hundred  and 
five  dollars  a year  before,  came  in  and  placed 
on  my  table  forty  dollars.  I had  not  seen 
him  for  three  months,  and  he  was  in  perfect 
ignorance  of  my  needs. 

Mr.  Spurgeon  tells  of  a member  in  his  con- 
gregation who,  in  his  early  ministry,  handed 


134 


UNEXPECTED  VISITORS. 


him  seven  shillings  and  sixpence  (nearly  two 
dollars),  at  the  close  of  a meeting,  saying: 
“Pastor,  I think  you  need  a new  hat,  take  this 
and  get  one.’’  At  the  next  meeting  this  man 
asked  Mr.  Spurgeon  to  pray  that  he  might 
be  delivered  from  “covetousness.” 

“Why,”  said  his  pastor,  “what  do  you  mean, 
brother?  I thought  you  were  very  generous 
in  giving  me  that  seven  and  sixpence  last 
week.” 

“Ah,  but  the  Lord  told  me  to  give  you  ten 
shillings,  and  I only  gave  you  the  three-fourths 
of  it;  but  here’s  the  other  two  shillings  and 
sixpence.  Now  won’t  you  pray  for  me?” 

“Why,  certainly,”  said  Mr.  Spurgeon,  and 
of  course  he  did. 

Very  probably  some  day  it  is  to  be  feared 
it  will  be  seen  that  this  is  not  the  only  case  of 
the  kind,  by  thousands,  but  that,  on  the  con- 
trary, many  were  as  surely  called  to  give  to 
the  cause  of  Christ  as  were  others  called  to 
go  to  work  in  the  field;  but  they  did  not  obey. 
What  follows  is  a case  of  the  opposite  kind. 

A dear  friend  knew  of  my  need  of  fifty  dol- 
lars on  a certain  day  in  1881.  On  my  going 
to  his  office,  he  handed  me  a check  for  that 
amount,  saying,  “Doctor,  Pm  going  to  give 
you  this,  although  I can  hardly  do  it,  but  I 
feel  impressed  to  do  so,  and  I’ll  trust  the  Lord 
for  the  result.” 

About  one  hour  after  this  a gentleman  vis- 
ited his  office,  to  which  I had  returned  mean- 
135 


“tell  them.” 

while,  and  so  witnessed  what  followed. 
Speaking  to  him  privately  for  a few  moments, 
he  placed  one  hundred  dollars  before  him,  and 
left. 

When  he  had  gone,  my  friend  said,  “There, 
now,  what  do  you  think  of  that?  That  man 
owes  me  thousands,  has  done  so  for  years, 
and  not  paid  me  a penny;  in  fact,  the  debt  is 
outlawed,  and  yet  he  is  forced  to  bring  me 
one  hundred  dollars  to-day.” 

May  not  the  foregoing  incidents  serve  as  a 
commentary  upon  the  words  of  the  apostle: 
“It  is  God  who  worketh  in  you  to  zvill  and  to 
do  of  His  good  pleasure.” 


136 


PROGRESS  AND  PROVIDENCE. 


Chapter  XXXI. 

Progress  and  Providence. 

The  goodness  and  greatness  of  God  is  not 
only  to  be  seen  in  “the  heavens,”  which  “de- 
clare His  glory,”  but  in  the  tiniest  creature 
which,  like  “the  firmament,  showeth  His 
handiwork.”  The  telescope  does  not  more 
fully  reveal  the  wisdom  of  God  and  the  per- 
fection of  His  works,  as  it  brings  to  our  view 
the  vast  celestial  bodies,  than  does  the  micro- 
scope, when  it  reveals  the  same  completeness 
and  harmony  in  the  minutest  parts  of  those 
things  which  are  invisible  to  the  naked  eye. 

This  is  no  less  true  of  men  than  of  the  rest 
of  creation;  for  God  does  not  more  surely  rule 
in  the  affairs  of  nations  than  of  individuals, 
and  this  is  especially  true  of  those  who  desire 
Him  to  “order  their  steps,”  even  as  David  did. 
It  was  this  truth  which  the  Saviour  made 
known  when  He  referred  to  the  falling  of  a 
sparrow  and  the  clothing  of  the  lilies;  and 
yet  how  few  seem  to  believe  this  most  glorious 
fact  a'nd  take  advantage  of  it  as  they  might. 

Men  naturally  prefer  to  trust  to  their  own 
wisdom  than  that  of  the  One  who  created 
them,  and  gave  to  them  the  faculties  they  pos- 
sess, and  thus  all  the  wisdom  they  have.  How 
could  He  rule  the  whole  if  ignorant  of  and 
D7 


“tell  them.” 

failing  to  regulate  the  workings  of  each  part 
of  the  whole? 

The  Medical  Missionary  Society  grew 
somewhat  quickly  in  New  York,  in  spite  of 
many  obstacles  and  drawbacks,  and  another 
dispensary  was  added  during  each  of  the  first 
four  years. 

In  1884  it  became  evident  that  a house 
would  soon  be  needed  as  a residence  for  stu- 
dents, but  the  Committee  could  not  see  their 
way  to  taking  one.  Mr.  Summers,  our  first 
student,  acted  as  janitor  at  the  mission  in  the 
Fourth  Ward,  and  took  up  his  abode  there 
while  attending  medical  college,  except  from 
Saturday  night  till  Monday  morning,  when 
he  stayed  with  us  in  Brooklyn.  The  vitiated 
atmosphere,  the  noise  of  drunken  brawls,  and 
the  raids  of  great  water  rats,  made  it  anything 
but  a desirable  place  for  him  to  live,  study  or 
sleep  in,  but  he  nobly  did  these  things. 

One  morning  in  March  I awoke  with  a 
strong  impression  that  we  should  remove  to 
New  York  on  the  1st  of  May,  the  usual  time 
for  annual  removal.  It  was  further  impressed 
upon  my  mind  that  we  should  reside  on  East 
Broadway.  Acting  upon  these  impressions, 
I came  across  to  New  York  that  morning, 
and  beginning  at  the  end  of  East  Broadway, 
where  the  medical  mission  was  first  opened, 
I walked  along,  looking  for  houses  to  let. 
None  seemed  suitable,  but  one  at  the  other 
end  of  the  street,  and  this  seemed  to  be  “just 
the  thing.” 

138 


PROGRESS  AND  PROVIDENCE. 


Upon  seeing  the  agent,  he  demanded  one 
hundred  dollars  down  as  a deposit,  i.  e.,  one 
month’s  rent.  This  I was  unable  to  provide, 
but  offered  him  twenty-five  dollars,  which  he 
declined.  So  the  matter  ended,  at  any  rate 
for  a time.  It  seemed  very  strange.  Was  it 
all  a fancy?  It  did  not  seem  so,  and  yet  suc- 
cess was  not  realized  then. 

Three  or  four  days  passed,  when  a messen- 
ger came,  asking  me  to  call  upon  the  owner, 
who  desired  to  see  me.  When  I did  so,  she 
told  me  that  she  would  let  it  to  me  without 
any  deposit. 

On  the  first  of  May,  1884,  I took  possession 
and  we  moved  in.  The  house  was  a large  one 
of  five  stories,  and  having  let  about  one  half 
of  it,  I devoted  one  floor  to  students,  and  used 
the  remainder  for  our  family.  I expected  to 
clear  one  half  of  the  rent  by  letting,  and  to 
make  up  the  cost  for  the  floor  devoted  to  stu- 
dents by  securing,  if  possible,  some  private 
practice.  It  was  peculiarly  encouraging  to 
the  writer,  and  will  prove  at  least  interesting 
to  the  reader,  to  know  of  the  way  in  which 
the  rent  was  met  upon  several  occasions. 

Before,  however,  proceeding  to  the  narra- 
tion of  these  things,  and  to  prevent  any  mis- 
understanding, it  may  be  well  to  explain  my 
exact  financial  position  in  relation  to  the 
Society. 

Upon  the  formation  of  the  Society  in  April, 
1881,  the  question  arose  as  to  my  own  sup- 


r39 


"teli.  them.” 

port.  I expressed  my  willingness  to  adopt 
either  one  of  two  plans,  as  the  Committee 
might  deem  best.  I would  either  trust  to 
God  alone  to  supply  my  needs  in  any  way  He 
saw  fit;  or  I would  receive  a regular  salary 
from  the  funds  of  the  Society.  The  latter 
course  was  advised  and  adopted,  and  upon  my 
being  asked  to  name  a sum  that  I deemed 
sufficient  for  myself  and  family,  I stated  that 
$1200  a year  would  be  all  that  I would  accept. 
It  wras  urged  by  those  present  that  this  wa.-> 
not  enough,  and  that  I should  take  $2000, 
but  I did  not  do  so.  The  following  year, 
however,  my  salary  was  increased  to  $1500 
a year,  at  which  sum  it  remained,  with  the 
addition  of  residence  free  of  rent,  in  1891. 

The  Society  has  always  had  a treasurer  who 
reo  :ved  and  disbursed  all  funds,  a printed 
statement  of  the  same  being  annually  issued. 

My  salary  was  not,  however,  at  all  insured 
to  me  with  any  regularity  by  the  Committee: 
as  funds  came  in  they  were  disbursed;  if  none 
were  in  hand,  no  payments  could  be  made. 
Thus,  while  it  was  arranged  that  I should  re- 
ceive a stipulated  sum,  it  only  insured  that  I 
should  not  draw  more  than  that  amount,  but 
did  not  assure  at  all  when  or  how  my  salarv 
would  be  paid.  So  that  actually  I was  thrown 
back  upon  God  to  supply  my  needs  as  much 
as  if  I was  not  under  any  regular  salary. 

It  is  necessary  to  make  these  things  very 
clear  to  enable  the  reader  to  fully  understand 


140 


PROGRESS  AND  PROVIDENCE. 


my  exact  position  in  money  matters.  At 
times  I regretted  that  I had  not  adopted  the 
course  of  entire  dependence  upon  God  apart 
from  any  arrangement  with  men,  especially 
as  my  position  was  made  apparently  ambigu- 
ous. Some  friends,  knowing  that  I was  un- 
der a regular  salary,  and  that  the  Society  had 
a Board  of  Managers,  could  not  understand 
my  being  in  need  of  special  deliverance,  and 
often,  when  such  persons  might  and  would 
have  helped  me,  they  left  it  to  the  Society  to 
do.  But  all  this  has  been  over-ruled  by  God, 
so  that  as  the  needs  have  arisen  they  have 
been  met  in  some  way  or  other,  as  narrated 
herein.  In  January,  1895,  for  various  rea- 
sons, especially  lack  of  funds,  I gave  up  my 
salary. 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  XXXII. 

How  the  Rent  Was  Paid. 

It  was  a great  surprise  and  relief  to  have 
the  way  thus  cleared  for  my  obtaining  the 
house  in  question,  but  how  to  get  the  first 
month’s  rent  by  May  1st  did  not  appear. 

My  diary  for  the  last  Saturday  in  April  has 
this  entry:  “Went  to  Roosevelt  Street  Dis- 
pensary this  morning  as  usual,  found  check 
for  one  hundred  dollars  from  Mr.  W.  Hen- 
drickson. Just  the  need!  Another  evidence 
that  ‘He  careth  for  you.’  ” So  the  first  month 
was  provided  for. 

The  month  wore  on  and  the  inevitable  rent 
day  again  drew  near.  With  the  need  came 
the  supply  in  the  following  manner;  quoting 
again  from  diary: 

“Monday,  June  2d,  1884. — Went  to  West 
Side  Noon  Prayer  Meeting;  asked  prayer  for 
help,  not  stating  particulars.  At  close  of 
meeting  Brother  Watson  desired  to  know 
what  the  trouble  was;  told  him.  We  had 
prayer  together,  and  he  offered,  if  the  Lord 
did  not  deliver  by  any  other  way,  to  loan  me 
seventy  dollars  next  day.  Paid  landlady 
thirty  dollars,  promised  balance  next  day.” 

“Tuesday,  June  3d. — We  have  been  trying 
to  let  the  second  floor  of  the  house  for  some 


142 


HOW  THE  RENT  WAS  PAID. 


weeks.  Feared  that,  as  the  third  of  the  month 
had  come,  we  should  not  let  it  for  June,  but 
at  nine  A.  M.,  to-day,  a young  man,  about  to 
be  married,  called,  and  took  the  floor,  and 
instead  of  paying  the  usual  one  month’s  rent 
(twenty-five  dollars),  he  astonished  me  by 
paying  the  rent  for  three  months,  seventy-five 
dollars.  Thus  the  seventy  dollars  was  pro- 
vided and  five  dollars  for  general  use.  Praise 
the  Lord.  ‘I  will  deliver  thee,  and  thou  shalt 
glorify  Me.’  Went  to  West  Side  Meeting 
same  day,  and  told  of  it  to  ‘glorify  Him.’  ” 

During  the  month  of  June,  sickness  visited 
our  home  and  my  dear  wife  narrowly  escaped 
death.  My  second  boy,  Ernest,  was  very  ill, 
and  with  the  constant  strain  I broke  down 
also,  so  that  towards  the  end  of  the  month  we 
all  felt  the  need  of  a change  from  the  heated 
city,  especially  as  we  had  not  had  one  week’s 
vacation  since  coming  to  America,  five  years 
before. 

This  led  to  our  making  enquiries,  and  dis- 
covering a very  suitable  place  where  we  could 
spend  two  weeks  in  the  country  not  far  from 
New  York  at  very  moderate  cost.  It  seemed 
to  be  just  what  we  wanted,  but  the  means  to 
go  were  not  forthcoming,  and  yet  we  went  on 
preparing  to  go  on  July  1st. 

A lady  friend,  Mrs.  Anderson,  called  to  see 
my  wife  and  gave  her  five  dollars  to  get 
“something”  to  strengthen  her.  The  same 
evening,  while  packing  ready  to  go  on  the 

14  5 


“tell  them.” 

morrow,  my  wife  suddenly  stopped  and  said, 
“I  was  thinking  that  some  people  would  say 
we  were  simply  mad,,  preparing  to  go  away, 
and  not  only  having  nothing  to  go  with,  but 
one  hundred  dollars  rent  to  pay  to-morrow,  and 
but  that  twenty-five  dollars  in  prospect  toward 
it.” 

“Well,  dear,  never  mind;  go  on  with  your 
packing.  We  know  in  whom  we  are  trust- 
ing, and  will  see  what  He  will  do.” 

The  following  morning  wife  and  I both 
awoke  with  a feeling  of  assurance  that  help 
would  come  somehow  and  through  a certain 
friend.  The  morning  mail  arrived,  but  no 
money  came.  It  was,  to  say  the  least,  disap- 
pointing, but  was  nevertheless  of  His  appoint- 
ing, and  the  thought  of  the  landlady  calling 
for  her  rent  at  noon  troubled  us.  Here  faith 
began  to  waver,  and  I decided  to  go  down 
town  and  ask  this  friend  to  loan  me  one  hun- 
dred dollars,  although  he  had  never  loaned  me 
money  before.  On  my  way  to  his  office  I 
called  at  the  Roosevelt  Street  Dispensary, 
thinking  that  perhaps  a letter  might  be  wait- 
ing for  me  there.  No,  there  was  nothing. 
As  I was  about  to  leave,  I encountered  a poor 
blind  man  whom  I knew,  trying  to  find  the 
dispensary  door.  He  begged  me  to  “call  at 
once”  and  see  his  wife,  who  was  very  sick. 
At  first  I confess  to  a halting  between  two 
opinions.  If  I did  not  get  to  my  friend’s 
office  before  ten  o’clock,  and  it  then  wanted 


144 


HOW  THE  RENT  WAS  PAID. 


only  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  to  that  time,  I 
should  miss  him,  as  he  would  be  “on  change.” 
However,  I went  with  the  blind  man,  saw  his 
wife  and  hurried  on  down  town  to  my  friend. 
As  I feared,  I found  him  gone  “on  change.” 
His  brother  was  in  the  office,  however,  and 
upon  seeing  me  asked,  “Did  you  receive  a 
note  from  my  brother  just  now,  doctor?” 

I replied  that  I had  not,  and  was  asked  to 
await  the  messenger’s  return.  He  soon  came 
back  and  handed  me  the  letter. 

Upon  opening  it,  I read: 

“My  Dear  Doctor: — Herewith  I send  you 
check  for  $m,  being  $75  for  the  Society,  and 
the  balance  for  yourself,  to  do  as  you  please 
with.  A friend  has  just  paid  me  this  check, 
from  whom  I did  not  expect  it,  in  payment  of 
a loan  of  long  standing,  and  I felt  ‘impressed’ 
to  send  it  to  you.  Yours  sincerely, 

G.  S.  H.” 

Can  I tell  you  how  I felt?  No,  I cannot. 
Gratitude  for  the  relief  thus  met  with  was 
mingled  with  feelings  of  awe,  as  even  the  three 
figures,  hi,  written  on  the  check,  seemed  to 
speak  of  the  Triune  God,  who  had  thus 
“thought  upon  me.” 

Such  experiences  tend  more  than  anything 
else,  perhaps,  to  humble  a man.  Peter  was 
not  so  much  moved  by  the  Saviour’s  preach- 
ing, as  by  the  miraculous  draught  of  fishes, 
when  he  cried  out,  “Depart  from  me,  for  I 
am  a sinful  man,  O Lord.” 

145 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  XXXIII. 

Entertaining  Angels  Unawares. 

A few  days  before  the  first  of  August,  a 
Swiss  young  man,  Mr.  Heli  Chatelain,  came 
to  see  me  about  entering  upon  medical  study 
with  a view  to  becoming  a medical  mission- 
ary. I told  him  that  neither  the  Society  nor 
myself  had  any  funds  in  hand  wherewith  to 
aid  students  to  pay  their  college  fees,  but  I 
would  give  him  a room  free  of  rent,  and  if  he 
was  not  too  proud  to  do  the  work  I could  give 
him  the  position  of  janitor  at  the  mission  and 
pay  him  a small  wage — five  dollars  a week. 
He  gladly  accepted  the  offer  and  entered  upon 
the  duties  at  once. 

Noticing  next  day  that  he  only  brought  a 
loaf  of  bread  into  the  house,  and  seemed  to 
be  living  upon  this,  my  wife  invited  him  to 
dinner  on  Sunday. 

The  next  Tuesday,  July  31st,  after  seeing 
the  patients  at  Roosevelt  Street,  I conversed 
with  him  and  expressed  my  sympathy  and 
faith  that  in  some  way  or  other  God  would 
provide  for  him,  as  He  had  done  for  me. 
Lest  he  might  think  that  what  I was  saying 
was  “mere  talk,”  I told  him  of  some  of  the 
deliverances  I had  experienced,  and  then  said, 
“Even  at  the  present  time  I am  in  difficulty 
about  meeting  the  rent  for  that  house  (one 
146 


ENTERTAINING  ANGELS  UNAWARES. 


hundred  dollars)  to-morrow,  as  I have  only 
twenty-five  dollars  due  me  for  rent,  and  five 
dollars  owed  me  which  I hope  to  get;  and 
vet,  in  some  way,  I expect  that  God  will  pro- 
vide.” 

The  reader  may  imagine  my  astonishment 
when  the  one  I was  thus  counselling  said, 
“Why,  doctor,  if  you  need  seventy  dollars,  I 
can  lend  it  to  you.” 

“You  can  lend  me  seventy  dollars?”  I said 
in  amazement;  “how  is  this?” 

“Well,  doctor,”  he  went  on  to  say,  “you  see 
I saved  some  money  from  my  teaching  in 
Switzerland  to  take  me  some  day  as  a mis- 
sionary to  Madagascar.” 

“Yes,”  I said,  “but  how  is  it  that  you  do  not 
use  some  of  this  for  your  present  needs,  and 
not  live  on  bread?” 

“Well,  you  see,  doctor,  that  is  the  Lord's 
money,  because  I gave  it  to  Him,  and  I can- 
not use  it  for  myself,  but  you  are  the  Lord’s 
servant,  and  I can  lend  it  to  you.” 

And  yet  he  would  not  use  this  money  for 
himself.  Surely  he  was  as  truly  the  Lord’s 
servant  as  I. 

Not  only  was  it  remarkable  as  to  the  pro- 
vision so  unexpectedly  made  to  meet  my 
needs,  but  here  was  a case  indeed  of  true  de- 
nial of  self.  I discovered  later  on  that  all  this 
time  Mr.  Chatelain  had  forty  dollars  really  his 
own,  placed  away  carefully,  which  he  was 
keeping  for  his  sister,  and  to  whom  he  had 

147 


“tell  them.” 

a few  weeks  before  sent  forty  dollars.  She 
had  recently  come  to  America,  and  had  not 
as  yet  found  employment.  Such  men  surely 
are  the  king’s  of  the  earth. 


Hon.  Heli  Chatelain,  the  Africanist,  1897. 


Strangely  enough,  the  following  day  my 
tenant  left  the  house  without  paying  the 
twenty- five  dollars  due,  and  the  one  who 
owed  me  the  five  dollars  did  not  pay  it,  so  that 
I really  had  nothing  towards  the  rent. 

About  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  Mr. 
Chatelain  asked  me  if  I had  the  thirty  dollars. 
T hardly  knew  how  to  reply,  but  finding  that 
I had  not  he  drew  out  of  the  bank  the  full 
148 


ENTERTAINING  ANGELS  UNAWARES. 


one  hundred  dollars,  and  loaned  it  to  me.  So 
the  rent  was  paid  for  another  month. 

This  experience  showed  me  how  one  might 
indeed  “entertain  angels  unawares”  by  enter- 
taining strangers;  and  again  I saw  how  I 
might  have  missed  this  aid  had  I not  sym- 
pathized with  him,  or  had  I been  too  proud 
to  mention  my  need,  as  I might  readily  have 
been  to  a stranger.  Certainly  I never  even 
dreamed  that  he  was  able  to  help  me,  but  the 
reverse. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  when  the  Lord 
was  upon  earth,  He  and  Peter  were  together 
when  the  usual  tax  was  demanded.  They 
had  no  money,  and  Peter  was  sent  to  catch  a 
fish,  in  whose  mouth  he  found  a piece  of  sil- 
ver, and  was  told  by  the  Master  to  give  that 
to  the  tax  collector — the  Lord  allowing  Peter 
to  act  as  paymaster — but  there  was  no  “change 
out,”  so  that  they  were  just  as  poor  afterwards 
as  before.  So  with  us;  the  rent  was  paid,  but 
other  things  were  needed,  and  they  were  sup- 
plied. My  diary  on  the  fourth  of  August 
reads  thus: 

“Went  to  West  Side  Prayer  Meeting  to- 
day. Afterwards  it  came  on  to  rain  and  as 
I had  no  umbrella,  and  no  money  for  car  fare, 
I was  very  awkwardly  placed,  but  just  at  that 
moment  an  old  friend  met  me,  and  learning 
that  1 was  going  home,  asked  me  to  jump  in 
the  car  with  him,  as  he  was  going  my  way. 
He  did  not  know  how  poor  I was,  though.” 

149 


"tell  them.” 

Small  matter?  \ es,  but  He  not  only  made 
sun  and  moon,  "He  made  the  stars  also.” 
"Saturday,  August  9th. — Had  only  twenty- 
five  cents  left  this  A.  M.  To-day  a patient 
gave  twenty-five  cents  and  lodger  paid  two 
dollars  for  gas;  so  tided  over  till  Monday.” 
"August  22d. — Called  upon  Mrs.  B.  B.  At- 
terbury,  when  she  gave  me  sixty  dollars 
towards  furnishing  rooms  for  students.” 

This  lady  was  the  first  one  to  give  me  a 
dollar  in  New  York  City.  A few  days  after 
my  arrival,  in  March,  1881,  she  gave  me  three 
dollars  to  meet  car  hire  expended  in  going  to 
see  people. 

She  was  the  first  person  to  aid  in  providing 
for  students  as  indicated,  and  Dr.  Summers 
was  helped  by  her  to  the  extent  of  over  one 
hundred  dollars  in  meeting  his  college  ex- 
penses. All  honor  to  those  who  thus  aided 
in  the  beginning 

* In  October,  1884,  Mr.  Chatelain  left  this  house,  in  com- 
pany with  my  first  student,  Dr.  Summers,  to  labor  in  West 
Africa.  I Ie  has  been  out  three  times  since  then,  once  as  the 
representative  of  the  United  States  at  Loanda.  lie  has  pub- 
lished the  finest  work  extant  upon  African  Folk  Lore,  has 
translated  the  Gospel  into  Kimbundu,  and  produced  a full 
grammar  and  vocabulary  of  that  language.  Recently  he  has 
founded  the  Phil-African  Liberators’  League,  for  the  aiding 
and  Christian  colonizing  of  the  liberated  slaves  in  Africa.  So 
highly  is  he  esteemed  for  his  marked  ability,  that  he  was  en- 
gaged by  the  Century  Company  to  revise  their  Dictionary  in 
regard  to  all  pertaining  to  Africa.  On  July  23d,  1897,  Mr. 
Chatelain  left  New  York,  accompanied  by  two  other  of  our 
students,  Dr.  Wintsch  and  Mr.  Lea,  also  Mrs.  Lea,  and  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Bell,  to  found  a colony  for  “liberated  slaves,”  in 
Angola.  My  son,  Harry,  is  the  Home  Secretary  of  the 
League,  and  may  go  out  in  charge  of  a second  party  in  1898. 

DO 


OUR  FIRST  STUDENT. 


Chapter  XXXIV. 

Our  First  Student. 

Rev.  William  Richard  Summers,  M.  D., 
the  first  student  of  the  International  Medical 
Missionary  Society,  passed  through  a most 
varied  experience. 

He  was  born  in  the  Island  of  Guernsey,  on 
April  28th,  1855,  of  parents  in  humble  circum- 
stances. While  yet  a boy,  his  soul  seemed 
fired  with  a determination  to  get  free  from  the 
somewhat  cramped  surroundings  in  which  he 
found  himself,  and  in  some  manner  make  his 
way  through,  and  leave  his  mark  upon,  the 
world. 

From  his  earliest  years  he  evinced  the  strong 
characteristics  of  determined  perseverance, 
courage  and  genius,  which  marked  the  later 
years  of  his  life. 

When  about  fourteen  years  of  age,  young 
Summers  was  apprenticed  to  a job  printer  in 
his  native  island,  and  soon  evinced  a decided 
adaptability  to  the  work;  but  as  this  increased, 
his  dislike  to  the  business  became  more 
marked,  until  he  determined  to  “cut  loose  and 
rr  11!” 

Arriving  in  London,  there  was  one  kind  of 
life  that  possessed  peculiarly  attractive  charms 
for  him,  viz.,  the  theatre.  This  led  him  to 


“tell  them.” 

join  himself  to  a travelling  circus,  until  he 
eventually  became  “Advance  Agent”  of 
“Hengler’s  Cirque.” 

Later  on  we  find  him  in  the  city  of  Dublin, 
performing  in  the  Rotunda  every  night  for 
four  consecutive  months,  as  an  exponent  of 
Dr  Slade,  the  great  spiritualist,  under  the 
title  of  Herr  Somarr. 

Not  only  was  young  Summers  able  to  do  in 
the  light  all  that  Slade  accomplished  in  the 
dark,  but  he  went  far  beyond  him  in  so  doing; 
in  fact,  his  superior  ability  as  a conjurer  and 
gymnast  was  acknowledged  by  his  compeers 
in  these  arts.  One  almost  inevitable  result  of 
following  this  kind  of  life  was  the  loss  of  all 
concern  for  his  spiritual  welfare,  his  Sunday 
evenings  only  furnishing  him  and  his  fellow- 
actors  suitable  occasions  for  meeting  for  any- 
thing but  religious  purposes. 

But  the  eye  of  Him  who  never  slumbers  nor 
sleeps  was  resting  upon  him,  and  watching 
over  him  with  tender  interest  despite  these 
things. 

His  maternal  grandmother  was  a very  pious 
woman,  and  in  the  early  years  of  her  “Wil- 
lie’s” life  she  had  sought  to  instil  the  truths 
of  God  into  his  young  heart,  and  daily  remem- 
bered him  to  her  Father  in  heaven. 

When  William  was  about  twenty-two  years 
of  age,  his  mother  was  led  to  come  out  de- 
cidedly as  a Christian,  while  being  attended 
as  a patient  by  the  writer,  as  told  in  the  chap- 
ter relating  to  work  in  Liverpool. 

152 


OUR  FIRST  STUDENT. 


No  sooner  had  she  done  so  than  the  general 
interest  evinced  on  behalf  of  her  “wandering 
boy’’  became  greatly  intensified,  leading  her 
to  ask  the  writer  and  others,  “Won’t  you 
please  pray  for  my  poor  Will?” 

How  God  answered  these  prayers  in  his 
conversion  is  told  in  a previous  chapter;  the 
prodigal  soon  found  his  way,  first  to  his  heav- 
enly Father,  and  then  to  mother  and  home. 

After  considerable  trial,  through  not  meet- 
ing with  employment  readily,  he  at  last  “got 
on”  a daily  paper  in  Liverpool  as  a composi- 
tor, staying  there  for  several  months,  until  he 
left  England  for  the  United  States  in  Septem- 
ber, 1879. 

The  writer,  in  company  with  his  family,  had 
preceded  him  the  previous  month,  and  stood 
ready  to  meet  him  on  his  arrival  and  extend  to 
him  a brotherly  welcome.  He  hardly  knew 
why  he  had  come  to  America,  but  he  realized, 
as  David  did,  “He  leadeth  me,”  and  it  was 
enough. 

Not  finding  a suitable  engagement  at  his 
trade,  he  was  determined  not  to  be  idle,  and 
took  the  first  thing  that  came  to  hand,  and 
‘ held  on”  until  he  could  get  something  better, 
a creed  many  a young  man  would  do  well  to 
follow. 

Some  months  after  his  arrival  in  Philadel- 
phia, the  Salvation  Army  commenced  its 
operations  in  the  United  States  in  that  city. 
The  earnest  spirit  of  the  Army  quite  capti- 
*53 


“tell  them.” 

vated  young  Summers,  and  he  enlisted  under 
its  banner,  and  was  soon  made  a captain  with 
an  allowance  of  about  four  dollars  a week  to 
live  upon. 

Nothing  daunted,  he  labored  alone  for 
nearly  four  months  in  Atlantic  City,  a sea 
side  resort.  Taking  his  concertina,  he  would 
commence  singing  on  the  beach  and  soon 
have  a large  and  attentive  audience. 

There  were  not  wanting  proofs  of  the  Di- 
vine blessing  resting  upon  these  brave  first 
efforts,  and  this,  as  well  as  much  of  his  pre- 
vious experience,  was  fitting  him  for  his  fu- 
ture life  work. 

He  who  could  bravely  face  jeering  crowds 
of  his  fellow-men  at  home,  might  well  be 
trusted  to  meet  with  the  savages  of  Central 
Africa. 

While  pursuing  his  labors  in  the  Army,  he 
met  with  a young  man  who  was  a student  at 
Pennington  Seminary,  New  Jersey,  and  one 
result  of  their  conversation  was  that  “Captain” 
Summers  wrote  to  the  principal,  Rev.  Thomas 
Hanlon,  D.  D.,  stating  that  he  was  poor;  in 
short,  had  nothing,  but  wanted  to  improve 
his  general  education,  that  he  might  the  bet- 
ter serve  Him  who  had  redeemed  him  from 
sin  and  hell. 

Immediately  after  he  had  mailed  the  letter, 
he  realized  that  he  had  done  a very  foolish 
thing,  and  would  have  taken  the  letter  out  of 
the  box  again  if  he  could  have  done  so. 
i54 


OUR  FIRST  STUDENT. 


But  it  was  all  right,  and  God’s  hand  was 
evidently  in  it,  for  as  soon  as  the  good  doctor 
read  the  note  of  the  young  aspirant,  his  gen- 
erous heart  warmed  up  toward  him,  and  to 
his  applicant’s  great  surprise  he  received  word 
to  “come  on  at  once.” 

On  he  went,  and,  commencing  at  the  bot- 
tom of  some  of  the  classes,  he  went  ahead, 
working  hard  night  and  day  until  he  led  some 
of  the  very  classes  in  which  he  began  lowest, 
and  finally  obtained  a place  on  the  honor  roll 
of  his  school. 


i5S 


“ Summers  of  Luluabnrg.” 
Rev.  W,  R.  Summers,  M.  D, 


THE  CALL  OF  GOD. 


Chapter  XXXV. 

The  Call  of  God. 

It  was  during  his  stay  in  the  Seminary  at 
Pennington  that  the  heart  of  young  Summers 
was  fully  set  upon  his  life  work,  as  the  follow- 
ing extract  from  a letter  will  show: 

Pennington  Seminary, 
Dec.  4th,  1881. 

Dear  Doctor  Dozvkontt: — Now  I’m  going  to 
tell  you  just  what  I have  in  mind  for  the  fu- 
ture. It  is  nothing  new,  for  I have  had  the 
plan  arranged  ever  since  I first  came  to  Pen- 
nington, but  was  not  sure  whether  I was  be- 
ing led  by  the  Lord  alone,  so  I have  had  to 
"try  the  spirits,”  and  I believe  it  is  the  Lord’s 
will.  I believe  when  God  gives  us  abilities 
and  graces,  it  is  our  duty  to  exercise  them  in 
that  place  or  position  (not  where  we  should 
happen  to  be  born),  but  where  our  talents  can 
be  used  to  the  best  advantage,  and  where  we 
can  do  the  most  good.  This  reasoning  has 
induced  me  to  analyze  my  talents  with  the 
Lord’s  help. 

Now  I'll  tell  you  what  I am  impressed  to 
do.  I find  I have  just  those  talents  that  con- 
stitute the  requisites  for  exploration,  and  my 
mind  has  always  dwelt  on  doing  good  to  those 
in  lands  that  are  but  little  opened  to  civiliza- 
i57 


“tell  them." 


tion  and  Christianity.  When  I was  about 
three  years  old,  I used  to  stand  on  a chair  and 
preach  to  the  heathen  around  me,  and  if  you 
had  asked  what  I was  going  to  be  I would 
have  said  “a  missionary.”  That  spirit  has 
never  left  me.  Even  when  in  the  “show” 
business  I always  felt  that  I could  give  my 
life  to  better  my  fellow-men,  though  leading 
a bad  life  myself. 

Circumstances  never  seemed  favorable  to 
this  project  until  the  way  opened  for  me  to 
come  here,  and  since  I have  been  here  I have 
taken  just  those  studies  that  I believe  will  be 
of  the  greatest  service  to  me.  When  I read 
missionary  reports  I find  that  the  most  suc- 
cessful missionaries  and  explorers  were  ear- 
nest Christian  doctors,  and  I have  felt  all  along 
that  I ought  to  study  medicine,  but  you  know 
of  the  difficulties  in  the  way.  Now  I believe 
that  when  I have  had  enough  of  this  school 
the  I.ord  will  make  the  way  clear  for  me. 

The  one  field  of  labor  always  on  my  mind 
is  Central  Africa,  and  I derive  great  spiritual 
pleasure  in  thinking  of  the  day  when,  if  the 
Lord  wills,  I shall  be  there  among  peoples 
that  have  not  as  much  as  seen  white  men.  In 
studying  missionary  lecords,  I’m  struck  with 
the  fact  that  nearly  all  our  mission  stations 
are  on  the  coast,  and  three  parts  of  the 
churches  are  filled  with  Europeans.  Our 
missions  in  India  and  China  are  much  the 
same.  What  is  wanted  is  men  who  will  go 
into  the  heart  of  Africa  and  work  from  its 
158 


THE  CALL  OF  GOD. 


centre,  or  those  millions  will  never  be  reached 
at  the  rate  the  coast  missions  are  progressing. 
I am  anxious  to  do  this,  and  I believe  that 
this  is  what  the  Lord  wants  me  to  do.  I ex- 
pect to  have  many  difficulties  to  overcome,  of 
course.  I can’t  see  how  or  where  funds  will 
come  from,  but  I feel  satisfied  that  they  will 
come.  Yours  in  Christ, 

W.  R.  Summers. 

How  little  do  we  know  or  realize  that  the 
same  God  who  first  called  little  Samuel  in  the 
midnight  hour,  may  and  often  does  call  “little 
children”  to-day.  The  Saviour  delighted  to 
call  them  unto  Him  when  on  earth,  may  He 
not  still  call  them,  for  “of  such  is  the  kingdom 
of  heaven?”  Let  the  following  be  the  reply. 

Having  finished  his  studies  at  Pennington, 
Mr.  Summers  came  to  New  York  and  made 
his  home  once  more  with  the  writer,  who  at 
that  time  was  passing  through  great  financial 
difficulties,  and  was  ill  able  to  help  his  friend. 
My  young  friend,  nothing  daunted,  was  de- 
termined to  succeed,  and  was  ready  to  do  any- 
thing to  further  his  laudable  purpose. 

Accepting  the  position  of  janitor  to  the  dis- 
pensary I had  opened  in  New  York  City,  he 
sought  in  this  way  to  help  himself,  using  his 
eyes  and  ears  to  “pick  up”  all  the  knowledge 
he  could  in  dispensing  the  drugs,  etc.,  until 
he  soon  became  proficient  in  this  branch.  Al- 
though only  getting  six  dollars  a week,  he 
managed  to  save  nearly  one  half  of  this  sum 


i59 


“teli.  them.” 

toward  the  time  when  he  would  have  to  attend 
college  and  give  his  whole  attention  to  study. 
There  was  one  particular  trait  in  his  character 
which  was  brought  out  at  these  times,  and 
that  was  his  entire  willingness  to  put  up  with 
anything  and  do  anything  that  came  in  his 
way. 

As  the  writer  resided  in  Brooklyn  the 
greater  part  of  the  time  Dr.  Summers  was 
pursuing  his  studies,  he  had  to  live  in  the 
room  at  the  back  of  the  dispensary,  under  the 
disadvantages  referred  to  in  a previous  chap- 
ter. Having  obtained  a scholarship  then 
existing  at  the  University  Medical  College, 
he  passed  his  final  examination,  and  obtained 
his  long  looked  for,  and  hard  fought  for,  de- 
gree of  M.  D.  in  March,  1884. 

An  illustration  of  his  pluck  and  persever- 
ance is  found  in  the  following  incident,  which 
occurred  before  he  went  to  Pennington  to 
study: 

In  August,  1881,  Mr.  D.L.  Moody  arranged 
for  a conference  of  Christians  at  Northfield, 
Mass.,  to  which  our  friend  wished  very  much 
to  go. 

Being  short  of  money,  and  neither  the 
writer  nor  the  Society  having  any  funds  to 
aid  him,  Dr.  Summers  invested  his  last  dollar 
in  some  photographs  of  the  late  President 
Garfield,  and  went  to  the  outskirts  of  New 
York  and  Brooklyn  to  sell  them.  Having 
realized  rather  more  than  a dollar,  he  deter- 
mined to  make  his  way  to  Northfield.  “But 
160 


THE  CALL  OF  GOD. 


how  are  you  going?”  we  asked,  as  he  made 
known  his  resolve.  Oh,  I mean  to  get  there 
somehow;  I’ll  take  the  boat  to  New  Haven 
for  the  dollar,  and  tramp  the  rest;  I can  sell 
the  photos  I have  left.  They  say  the  Con- 
necticut river  is  good,  so  I’ll  be  all  right  for 
drinking  and  bathing.” 

Wearied  and  footsore,  he  reached  his 
destination,  to  receive  so  great  a spiritual 
blessing  that  he  felt  it  was  worth  ten  times 
the  effort.  Some  of  the  brethren  at  the  con- 
ference saw  to  it  that  he  did  not  walk  back, 
by  more  than  paying  his  fare.  “Inasmuch.” 
Having  graduated,  the  next  question  was 
how  to  get  to  his  chosen  field  of  labor.  After 
some  waiting  and  needed  resting,  the  way 
opened  up  in  a wonderful  manner,  by  his 
friend,  Dr.  Hanlon,  introducing  him  to  Bishop 
William  Taylor,  who  had  recently  been  ap- 
pointed Bishop  of  Africa,  and  who  was  pray- 
ing and  looking  for  a man  who  knew  that 
country,  he  himself  knowing  little  of  it. 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  XXXVI. 

In  Dark  Africa. 

Dr.  Summers  had  devoured,  so  to  speak, 
every  book  written  upon  Africa,  and  was  fully 
conversant  with  all  the  discoveries  up  to  date. 

Having  made  himself  a very  large  map  of 
Africa,  he  attended  several  of  the  camp  meet- 
ings held  during  the  summer  of  1884.  With 
Mr.  Heli  Chatelain,  to  whom  reference  has 
been  made  in  a previous  chapter,  he  sailed  on 
October  226.  These  two  young  men  sailed 
from  New  York  for  Liverpool,  as  steerage 
passengers,  on  board  the  Aurania. 

After  spending  some  time  in  Berlin,  study- 
ing the  language  of  the  people  found  in  Cen- 
tral Africa  by  Lieut.  Weissman,  and  meeting 
with  Mr.  H.  M.  Stanley  and  others,  these  two 
young  men  sailed  from  England  on  January 
7th,  1885,  in  company  with  Bishop  Taylor. 

Arriving  in  Liberia,  the  Bishop  landed  and 
remained  there  to  receive  a large  party  of 
nearly  forty,  who  were  to  sail  a month  later 
from  New  York.  Dr.  Summers  and  his  com- 
panion, Mr.  Chatelain,  proceeded,  and  arrived 
at  Loanda  in  the  middle  of  the  following 
month.  After  reconnoitring  in  Loanda,  mak- 
ing friends  and  securing  a house  for  the  ex- 
pected party  of  missionaries,  Dr.  Summers  set 
out  alone  for  the  interior,  accomplishing  a 
162 


IN  DARK  AFRICA. 

journey  of  four  hundred  miles  to  Melange, 
and  returned  to  the  coast,  having  opened  up 
the  way  for  the  various  stations  since  located 
there. 

In  June,  1886,  Dr.  Summers  left  Melange 
for  Luluaburg,  a journey  of  a thousand  miles, 
reaching  the  latter  place  in  December  follow- 
ing. Here  he  labored  on  alone  for  nearly  two 
years.  Strangely  enough,  his  desire,  as  ex- 
pressed in  his  letter  to  me  from  Pennington, 
was  fully  realized  in  his  meeting  with  millions 
in  the  surrounding  country  who  had  never 
seen  a white-faced  man  before. 

Some  of  them,  though,  had  a strange  im- 
pression on  their  minds  that  one  day  a man 
with  a white  face  would  come,  and  then  won- 
derful blessings  would  accrue  to  them;  so  that 
when  the  doctor  was  seen  they  cried,  “Here 
he  is!  Here  he  is!” 

One  tribe  had  gone  so  far  as  to  build  a 
house  for  the  coming  white  man.  When  the 
doctor  left  them  to  return  to  Luluaburg  and 
send  the  wonderful  news  home,  they  besought 
him  with  tears  to  remain.  Even  the  chiefs 
crawled  on  their  knees  and  begged  him  not 
to  go  away. 

However,  he  had  to  leave  them,  and  it  was 
not  until  1892  that  another  missionary,  Mr. 
Lapsley,  of  America,  visited  and  remained 
among  these  peoples.  He  located  at  Luebo, 
just  across  the  river  Lulua,  and  after  three 
years  of  noble  and  successful  service,  he,  too, 
died  there.  A Mr.  and  Mrs.  W.  H.  Shepherd, 
163 


“tell  them.” 

colored  people,  sent  out  by  the  Presbyterian 
Church  South,  are  now  living  there. 

Dr.  Summers  was  “called  home”  to  his  re- 
ward on  the  twenty-fourth  day  of  May,  1888, 
after  most  trying  experiences  and  heroic  ser- 
vice. A few  weeks  before  he  died  he  was 
feeling  his  loneliness  terribly,  as  he  had  not 
heard  from  any  one  of  his  friends  for  twenty 
months.  On  one  occasion  he  felt  that  he 
really  could  not  live  any  longer,  and  prayed 
the  Lord  to  take  him  home.  Just  at  this  su- 
preme moment  he  was  overcome  by  such  a 
realization  of  the  presence  of  his  Saviour  as 
he  had  never  before  known.  At  the  same 
time  it  seemed  as  if  He  again  said  the  words, 
and  to  him  personally,  “Lo!  I am  with  you 
always;”  he  was  moved  to  tears,  but  tears  of 
relief  and  joy. 

His  faithful  colored  boy  asked  in  sympathy, 
“Massa  got  more  pain?”  Ah!  no,  but  he  had 
obtained  relief  from  pain. 

Does  any  one  think  this  the  result  of  an 
over-wrought  brain,  or  mere  fancy,  etc.?  Was 
it  not  when  Mary,  in  deep  trouble,  stood  alone 
at  the  sepulchre,  that  her  Divine  Master  came 
to  her  side  to  comfort  her?  And  this,  al- 
though He  had  not  yet  ascended  to  His  Father 
and  forbad  her  to  touch  Him,  whereas  the 
same  evening  He  bade  the  disciples  handle 
Him  and  see?  Did  not  Stephen  see  the 
heavens  open  and  also  the  Son  of  God?  Ah! 
yes.  If  we  believe  these  statements,  we  need 
not,  perhaps  do  not,  question  such  an  expe- 

164 


IN  DARK  AFRICA. 


rience  as  that  of  Dr.  Summers  in  Africa.  It 
is  written,  “Jesus  Christ,  the  same  yesterday, 
to-day  and  forever.”  The  doctor  was  raised 
up  again  and  enabled  to  complete  the  building 
of  a dwelling  house  and  a school  house.  Some 
weeks  afterwards  he  started  for  the  coast,  be- 
ing utterly  broken  down  in  health  and  hoping 
thus  to  recruit  it.  But  the  Master  said  to  His 
wear}"  servant,  “It  is  enough.  Come  up 
higher.” 

Five  books  full  of  deeply  interesting  notes 
of  his  journeys  and  discoveries  were  obtained 
by  Mr.  Chatelain,  and  turned  over  to  the 
writer,  in  1893.  They  are  stained  and  worm 
eaten,  and  afford  evidence  of  the  exposure  and 
difficulties  to  which  their  owner  was  subject 
during  his  toilsome,  dangerous  journeyings. 
It  is  sad  and  quite  inexplicable  that  such  no- 
ble lives  as  that  of  Dr.  Summers  should  be  so 
soon  ended,  but  he  labored  as  long  in  Africa 
as  the  Saviour  did  upon  earth,  and  seven  times 
longer  than  did  that  greatest  of  men,  John  the 
Baptist. 

“ Blind  unbelief  is  sure  to  err, 

And  scan  His  work  in  vain; 

God  is  His  own  interpreter, 

And  He  will  make  it  plain.” 

“What  I do  thou  knowest  not  now,  but 
thou  shalt  know  hereafter,”  said  Jesus  to 
Peter,  and  so  says  to  us. 


Students  of  the  International  Medical  Missionary  Society — 18S8. 


TRAINING  MEDICAL  MISSIONARIES. 


Chapter  XXXVII. 

Training  Medical  Missionaries. 

One  object,  and,  indeed,  the  chief  one,  had 
in  view  in  inaugurating  medical  mission  work 
in  New  York,  was  the  education  of  young  men 
and  women  who  should  go  forth  into  heathen 
lands,  as  Dr.  Summers  did,  to  “heal  the  sick 
and  preach  the  Gospel”  in  accordance  with 
the  Saviour’s  example  and  teaching. 

But  inasmuch  as  by  far  the  larger  number 
of  Christians  in  America  knew  very  little  of 
the  need  for  medical  aid  in  heathen  lands,  and 
the  great  value  of  it  as  a means  of  opening  the 
way  for  the  Gospel,  it  seemed  best  to  place 
an  object  lesson  of  this  two-fold  agency  in 
their  midst,  one  which  would  at  the  same  time 
afford  the  best  school  for  the  practical  training 
of  students  both  medically  and  religiously.  In 
a word,  it  was  desired  that  many  a “Dr.  Sum- 
mers” should  be  so  trained  and  sent  forth. 

Some  of  the  ways  in  which  I obtained  help 
are  referred  to  in  this  chapter,  and  relate  to 
the  demands  of  the  work  God  had  given  me  to 
do,  as  well  as  to  my  more  personal  needs. 

In  the  spring  of  1885,  as  the  time  drew  near 
for  the  termination  of  the  lease  of  the  house 
on  East  Broadway — the  owner  having  decided 
to  live  in  it  thereafter — some  anxiety  was  felt 
as  to  the  “next  step.” 

The  desirability  of  the  Society  renting  a 
167 


"tell  them.” 

house  was  strongly  urged,  but  for  lack  of 
means  was  reported  upon  adversely  by  the 
committee  appointed  to  consider  the  subject. 

just  at  this  time,  however,  Dr.  B.  C.  Atter- 
bury,  of  Pekin,  China,  who  was  home  on  a 
visit,  generously  came  to  our  assistance.  A 
meeting  of  the  Board  was  arranged,  and  the 
doctor,  being  firmly  convinced  that  the  work 
should  go  forward,  urged  the  members  to  take 
a larger  house,  offered  at  a low  rental,  as  a 
Home  and  Institute  for  Students.  He  nobly 
offered  to  pay  the  first  quarter’s  rent  (three 
hundred  dollars)  of  the  house,  1 18  East  Forty- 
fifth  Street,  and  it  was  taken  and  became  the 
headquarters  of  the  Society. 

Half  a dozen  students  had  resided  in  the 
house  which  I had  rented  on  East  Broadway, 
of  whom  the  two  referred  to  had  gone  to  the 
foreign  field. 

For  the  new  house  more  furniture  was 
needed,  but  friends  came  to  our  aid  and  the 
house  was  “fitted  up.”  We  soon  had  twelve 
students,  among  them  being  Rev.  Lewis  R. 
Scudder,  grandson  of  Dr.  John  Scudder,  the 
first  medical  missionary  to  go  from  America 
to  a heathen  land,  he  having  left  New  York 
for  India  in  1818. 

All  this  time  the  good  work  had  been  going 
on  at  the  mission  dispensaries,  and  hundreds 
were  coming  for  medical  treatment,  many  of 
whom  also  obtained  healing  for  the  soul.  In 
1886  another  dispensary  was  opened  in  New 
York,  and  in  1887  a sixth  in  Brooklyn,  while 
168 


TRAINING  MEDICAL  MISSIONARIES. 


in  the  fall  of  the  latter  year  a second  house 
was  taken  for  lady  students,  many  of  whom 
had  applied  to  come.  The  total  number  in 
training  during  that  year  was  forty-seven,  so 
speedily  had  the  work  grown. 

Of  the  number  of  students  in  training  and 
financially  aided,  from  1881  to  1897,  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  have  been  appointed  to  India, 
China,  Africa  and  other  lands,  to  serve  under 
the  various  mission  boards.  They  have  gone 
ont  to  do  in  these  countries  similar  work  to 
that  which  they  did  in  New  York,  and  it  is  a 
source  for  encouragement  and  considerable 
satisfaction  to  the  managers  that  of  all  those 
who  have  thus  been  sent  out  under  the  en- 
dorsement of  the  Society,  not  one  has  proved 
unsatisfactory,  but,  on  the  contrary,  we  are 
constantly  hearing  commendations  of  them 
and  their  labors. 

A more  devoted,  loving  band  of  young  peo- 
ple it  would  be  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to 
find.  Coming  from  twenty  different  coun- 
tries, and  belonging  to  nearly  as  many  de- 
nominations of  evangelical  Christians,  they 
have  lived  and  labored  together  in  the  Gospel 
of  words  and  works. 

To  see  these  young  men  and  women,  many 
of  them  college  graduates,  some  from  homes 
of  considerable  refinement,  devotedly  working 
among  the  most  repulsive  human  beings  in 
the  slums  of  New  York,  and  striving  by  acts 
of  loving  service  and  kindly  words  to  “rescue 
the  perishing  and  care  for  the  dying,”  is  a 

169 


“tell  them.” 

sight  that  has  often  rejoiced  the  heart  and 
made  full  amends  for  the  hard  trials  which  at 
times  almost  led  to  abandonment  of  the  work 
in  utter  despair. 

Not  only  has  the  advantage  of  such  practi- 
cal training  been  realized,  but  its  worth  has 
been  manifest  as  a means  of  testing  devotion 
to,  and  fitness  for,  real  mission  service. 

Great  care  has  been  exercised  in  the  accept- 
ance of  candidates,  and  in  their  retention;  no 
one  being  accepted  for  more  than  one  year 
at  a time. 

The  following  extract  from  a circular  issued 
in  1886  will  give  the  reader  some  idea  of  the 
kind  of  men  sought  for  and  aided  by  the 
Society: 

OUR  STUDENTS — THE  MEN  WE  WANT. 

First.  Not  those  who  are  given  to  this 
world  and  its  pleasures  or  treasures,  but  ear- 
nest Christians,  who  have  given  these  up  to 
labor  for  and  follow  Christ. 

Second.  Not  those  who  are  “good  at  noth- 
ing,” and  have  failed  at  everything,  and  who 
therefore  think  they  are  “called  to  the  Lord’s 
work;”  but  those  who  have  succeeded  in  what 
they  have  previously  undertaken. 

Third.  Not  the  weak,  either  physically, 
mentally  or  spiritually;  but  men  who  are 
strong  in  the  Lord,  and  have  healthy  minds  in 
healthful  bodies. 

Fourth.  Not  cantankerous  individuals, 
whom  “no  one  can  live  with;”  but  those  of 
genial  adaptability  of  disposition  and  character. 

170 


TRAINING  MEDICAL  MISSIONARIES. 

Fifth.  Not  those  who  would  like  to  go  and 
“see  the  world;”  but  those  who  want  to  go 
and  “bless  the  world”  with  their  deeds. 

Sixth.  Not  those  who  are  afraid  to  soil  their 
hands  with  work,  but  such  as  are  ready  to  do 
anything  and  everything  to  help  themselves 
and  assist  others,  like  their  Divine  Master. 

Seventh.  Not  such  as  are  fastidious  as  to 
their  food  and  surroundings;  but  those  who, 
like  good  soldiers,  are  willing  to  endure  hard- 
ness, and  exercise  economy  and  self-denial  at 
home  and  abroad. 

Eighth.  Not  those  who  want  others  to 
‘‘carry  them”  through  their  educational  course 
and  ever  after;  but  such  as  will  use  all  their 
powers  to  aid  themselves,  and  will  only  allow 
others  to  do  for  them  what  they  cannot  possi- 
bly do  for  themselves. 

Ninth.  Not  those  who  only  talk  of  what 
they  are  “going  to  do”  in  India,  China  or 
Africa,  but  those  who  already  “have  done” 
something  at  home. 

Tenth.  In  short, men  are  needed  with  brains 
to  think  and  act  intelligently,  with  hearts  to 
love  and  serve,  with  hands  ready  to  do  with 
their  might  what  they  find  to  do,  and  feet 
ready  to  run  in  the  path  of  duty,  although  it 
entail  privation  and  suffering. 

Such  men  the  world  needs  all  the  time,  and 
needs  them  badly  just  now,  and  it  is  the  pur- 
pose of  this  Society  to  train  and  send  out  as 
many  as  possible  of  such  persons. 


171 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  XXXVIII. 

A Terrible  Trial. 

How  great  a blessing  is  that  of  a good  wife; 
truly  her  price  is  above  rubies.  It  was  my 
privilege  to  be  so  blessed  “through  all  the 
changing  scenes  of  life”  from  1866  to  1887. 
Then  it  was  my  great  sorrow  to  lose  my  be- 
loved partner,  who.  joined  me  in  the  first  mis- 
sion work  I ever  did  in  Sheerness  in  1864. 

How  much  the  writer  owes  to  her  earnest 
prayers  and  efforts  for  any  good  he  may  have 
done,  he  cannot  tell,  but  very  much  of  the  suc- 
cess attending  his  efforts  was,  he  feels  sure, 
the  result  of  her  hearty  co-operation  and  en- 
couragement. Nobly  did  she  enter  into  all 
his  plans  and  perform  a mother’s  part  toward 
the  “boys,”  as  the  students  were  familiarly 
called. 

As  one  family  we  gathered  around  the  table 
at  meal  times,  and  bowed  together  daily  in 
prayer  and  praise. 

As  an  illustration  of  her  devotion  and  help- 
fulness, I narrate  the  following: 

One  day  in  September,  1887,  I was  in  sore 
need  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  to  meet 
due  bills  for  the  Society,  and  had  in  vain  gone 
to  man,  by  calling  upon  three  of  those  whom 
I thought  could  and  would  help,  but  I got 
nothing. 


172 


A TERRIBLE  TRIAL. 


My  dear  wife  said,  “Why  don’t  you  go  and 
see  Mr.  C ?” 

I replied  that  he  had  never  given  us  more 
than  a hundred  dollars  a year,  and  he  had 
already  given  us  fifty  dollars. 

“Never  mind,”  said  she,  “go  and  see  him.” 
I did  so,  and  to  my  great  astonishment  he 
asked,  “How  much  do  you  need?” 

Somewhat  hesitatingly  I replied,  “Two 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  But — ■”  I was 
about  to  explain  that  I did  not  expect  him 
to  give  that  sum — so  small  was  my  faith — - 
but  before  I could  say  it  he  said: 

“I’ll  give  you  that  amount.” 

I came  home  with  the  check  for  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars,  and  said  playfully  to  the 
dear  sick  one,  whose  faith  had  brought  the 
deliverance,  “How  much  did  you  expect  me 
to  get?” 

At  once  she  replied,  “Why,  all  of  it,  of 
course.” 

“Well,”  I said, “he  gave  me  this  towards  it,” 
and  placed  the  check  in  her  hands. 

A few  days  prior  to  this  occurrence,  viz., 
Sunday,  September  4th,  1887,  I was  about  to 
leave  home  to  conduct  the  evening  meeting 
at  one  of  our  missions,  when  my  wife  asked 
me  not  to  go,  for,  said  she,  “I  feel  that  I shall 
go  home  to-night.”  I accordingly  remained, 
and  from  seven  o’clock  until  midnight  she  was 
actually  “dying  by  inches.”  The  whole  of 
the  extremities  were  cold  and  lifeless  by 
twelve.  During  the  intervening  time  she  had 
17  3 


Edith. 


Perc>’-  Ernest. 

SIX  OF  OUR  CHILDREN. 


A TERRIBLE  TRIAL. 


bidden  us  all  “good  bye,”  and  had  talked  of 
her  heavenly  home. 

Just  at  midnight  she  suddenly  said  in  a 
whisper,  “George,  dear,  I don’t  think  I shall 
go  to-night,  after  all.  Someone  is  praying  me 
back,”  and  added,  “I  feel  so  hungry.”  We 
thought  of  the  daughter  of  Jairus  brought 
back  to  life,  and  it  seemed  that  the  same  One 
was  in  that  sick  room  also. 

Not  until  seven  years  later  did  I know  that 
our  son,  Harry,  had  stolen  out  of  the  room  at 
that  time,  and  shutting  himself  in  his  room, 
had  there  pleaded  with  God  to  “spare  her  yet 
a little  longer.”  Some  one  challenging  the 
efficacy  of  prayer,  led  to  the  discovery.  So 
God  again  answered  a boy’s  prayer,  as  told  in 
a previous  chapter. 

The  reader  may  the  better  understand  how 
great  was  my  loss  when,  on  November  5th, 
1887,  my  dear  partner  was  taken  from  me  to 
her  well  earned  rest  and  reward. 

Five  of  our  dear  children  had  preceded  their 
mother,  and  were  ready  to  welcome  her.  And 
I was  left  with  five,  the  youngest,  Percy,  a 
bright  little  fellow  of  two  and  a half  years, 
three  girls, — Edith,  Lillie,  and  Florrie — aged 
respectively  thirteen,  eleven  and  seven  years, 
our  oldest  son  being  then  eighteen.  With 
broken  health,  following  months  of  care  dur- 
ing night  and  day,  it  was  a wonder  how  I lived 
through  it  all. 

It  was  a great  joy,  however,  to  have  around 
me  a band  of  sympathizing  friends  in  our 
i75 


“tell  them.” 


forty  students,  and  especially  to  have  in  our 
eldest  son  one  to  whom  I could  look  for  help 
at  this  time. 

Only  two  days  after  my  beloved  partner’s 
removal,  I was  stricken  with  pneumonia  and 
kept  to  my  bed  for  three  weeks.  Oh!  how 
the  mother  was  missed  amid  it  all! 

No  sister  or  relative  athand  to  do  a mother’s 
part,  how  dark  it  all  seemed  to  the  one  lying 
in  bed,  sick  and  helpless.  But  in  His  own 
time  and  way  God  provided  the  needed  aid. 
“My  soul,  wait  thou  only  upon  God.” 

In  this  narration  of  the  struggles  of  forty 
years,  I have  chiefly  spoken  of  financial  de- 
liverances, not  because  others  less  tangible, 
but  none  the  less  real,  were  not  given;  but 
simply  because  such  may  be  “explained  away” 
with  comparative  ease,  whereas  those  relating 
to  the  “things  of  earth,”  which  can  be  seen 
and  felt,  handled  and  weighed,  are  less  con- 
trovertible, if  not  entirely  so,  and  therefore 
may  the  more  readily  strengthen  the  faith  of 
others.  But,  as  with  Dr.  Summers  in  the 
heart  of  Africa,  so  with  the  writer,  there  have 
been  times  when  the  need  was  far  deeper  than 
money  could  meet.  For  ’tis  greater  far  to 
minister  to  a mind  diseased  and  troubled,  than 
even  to  a hungry  or  sick  body. 

As  instances  of  this  kind  of  deliverances, 
the  two  following  experiences  are  here  nar- 
rated. 

At  one  time,  on  the  day  that  my  devoted 
wife  was  taken  from  me,  a terrible  sense  of 
176 


A TERRIBLE  TRIAL. 


loneliness  came  over  me,  when  it  was  as  if 
the  Saviour  stood  by  me,  as  He  did  with  Paul, 
and  said  again,  “Lo!  I am  with  you  alway.” 
The  following  day  I looked  into  the  face  cf 
the  dear  one  as  she  lay  still  in  death,  and  was 
chilled  by  the  feeling  that  there  was  no  “re- 
turn look  of  love”  from  her.  Just  then  there 
came  to  my  mind,  with  peculiar  force,  afford- 
ing the  needed  relief,  “I  will  see  you  again, 
and  your  heart  shall  rejoice.” 

I said,  “It  is  enough,”  and  turned  away  re- 
conciled, to  wait  until  that  day  should  indeed 
come. 

How  do  I explain  these  things?  Simply  as 
being  in  accordance  with  the  promise  of 
Christ,  “When  He,  the  Spirit  of  truth,  is  come, 
He  will  bring  all  things  to  your  remembrance 
that  I have  said  unto  you.” 

“And  they  remembered  His  words,”  Luke 
xxiv:  8. 

It  has  often  happened  that  a bad  man  has 
been  turned  from  his  sins,  even  as  the  writer 
was  in  1864,  by  the  memory  of  words  read  or 
learned  from  the  Word  of  God  in  years  gone 
by,  and  long  forgotten. 

Surely  the  Holy  Spirit  is  rightly  called  the 
Comforter,  for  He  is  indeed  the  physician  to 
the  troubled  soul.  The  One  who  knows  the 
Word  of  God,  for  He  indited  it,  and  who 
knows,  too,  just  the  word  suited  to  each  case, 
and  He  applies  it  through  the  memory. 


*77 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  XXXIX. 

A Chapter  of  Stirring  Events. 

Testimony  might  be  given  in  regard  to 
things  pertaining  to  spiritual  matters;  deliver- 
ances from  opposition  to  the  work,  and  the 
success  of  the  work  in  other  ways;  but  it  is 
deemed  best  for  the  purposes  of  this  little 
book  rather  to  bear  testimony  to  God’s  faith- 
fulness in  temporal  and  tangible  things  which 
cannot  so  well  be  called  into  question,  hence 
may  the  more  readily  strengthen  faith  in 
others. 

On  one  occasion  the  Society  was  in  great 
need  of  seventy-five  dollars  to  meet  due  pay- 
ments, when  that  exact  sum  came  to  the  edi- 
tor of  the  New  York  Witness,  who  had  from 
time  to  time  referred  to  the  work  in  his  col- 
umns. It  was  sent  by  a friend,  to  this  day  un- 
known, the  envelope  simply  bearing  the  post 
mark,  “Santa  Fe.” 

At  another  time  we  were  sorely  pressed  for 
one  hundred  dollars.  Upon  retiring,  my  wife 
and  I prayed  earnestly  that  something  might 
be  sent  next  day.  The  following  morning  I 
called  upon  our  treasurer,  and  found  that  a 
messenger  had  just  brought  him  one  hundred 
dollars  in  cash,  and  would  not  say  who  had 
sent  him,  though  urged  to  do  so;  and  to  this 
day  I do  not  know  the  sender. 

One  day  my  friend,  Mr.  Edis,  of  Philadel- 

.78 


A CHAPTER  OF  STIRRING  EVENTS. 


phia,  called  to  see  us.  At  the  time  I had  but 
a few  cents  in  the  house.  We  called  at  the 
office  of  a friend  down  town,  and  while  there 
the  brother  of  the  friend  I had  called  to  see 
and  to  whom  I had  never  spoken  in  my  life, 
astounded  me  by  handing  me  a check  for  one 
hundred  dollars,  although  he  knew  nothing  of 
my  need  at  the  time. 

At  another  time,  my  dear  aged,  blind  friend, 
Rev.  Charles  Parker,  of  Brooklyn,  knowing 
that  there  was  need  for  money  to  meet  the 
expenses  of  the  work,  kindly  offered  to  take 
me,  on  a certain  day,  to  some  friends  who 
were  very  wealthy  and  from  whom  he  felt  sure 
he  could  obtain  some  money.  He  had  at 
times  been  successful  before  in  obtaining  help 
for  us  from  his  friends,  but  on  this  day  we 
spent  three  hours  going  around  in  the  cold 
and  snow  of  a hard  winter  all  in  vain,  for  we 
did  not  get  a single  cent.  (This  dear  friend 
died  on  the  very  same  day  that  Dr.  Summers 
died  in  Africa,  May  24th,  1888,  and  was  buried 
by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Cuyler.) 

That  same  evening  I went  by  invitation  to 
the  house  of  Mrs.  B.  B.  Atterbury,  and  had 
only  been  there  five  minutes  when  she  sur- 
prised me  by  putting  into  my  hand  a fifty- 
dollar  bill.  She  knew  absolutely  nothing  of 
the  need  at  the  time.  It  really  seemed  as  if 
God,  who  had  seen  my  poor  blind  friend  and 
me  going  around  in  the  snow  waiting  upon 
men  in  vain,  had  taken  pity  on  us.  What  else 
could  explain  it? 


179 


“tell  them.” 

In  the  summer  of  1885,  I attended  the  con- 
ference held  at  Northfield  by  Mr.  D.  L. 
Moody.  One  morning  an  account  of  medi- 
cal mission  work  was  given  by  me  in  the  tent. 
The  following  morning,  at  breakfast,  a gentle- 
man expressed  his  interest  in  the  account  of 
the  work  I had  given  on  the  previous  day,  and 
handed  me  his  card,  which  read,  “Rev.  George 
II.  Griffin,  Springfield,  Mass.,”  at  the  same 
time  he  said,  “I  used  to  live  in  New  York, 
and  know  the  condition  of  things  there.” 

“Do  you  know  a Mr.  Charles  Griffin  there?” 
I asked. 

“Know  him?  Indeed!  Why,  he  is  my 
brother!  Do  you  know  him?” 

“Yes,”  I replied,  “I  do.  He  recently  sent 
us  an  organ  for  our  Institute.” 

“What,”  said  he  in  astonishment,  “have  you 
got  that  old  organ?” 

I replied  that  we  had. 

“Why,  I’m  so  glad;  I did  not  know  what 
mission  he  wanted  to  give  it  to  when  he  wrote 
and  asked  me  about  it.  Why  I played  on 
that  instrument  in  our  old  home  for  twenty 
years.” 

That  afternoon,  Mr.  Griffin  called  another 
Christian  worker  and  me  into  his  room,  and 
said,  “I  want  to  give  you  each  $25.00.”  He 
knew  nothing  of  my  circumstances,  but  I had 
only  ten  cents  left  in  my  pocket  when  I reached 
that  conference,  towards  meeting  board  and 
expenses  home,  but  the  needs  were  again  sup- 
plied. Stranger  still  to  say,  the  other  worker 
180 


A CHAPTER  OF  STIRRING  EVENTS. 


for  New  York  was  in  just  the  same  position  as 
myself,  except  that  he  had  sixteen  cents. 
Neither  his  benefactor  nor  myself  knew  of  his 
need,  and  neither  of  them  mine. 

At  the  close  of  1886,  the  Society  was  in  ar- 
rears and  had  to  make  up  the  deficiency  by  a 
certain  date,  as  a gentleman  had  promised  to 
give  the  last  quarter  of  the  sum  needed  when 
the  other  three-fourths  was  collected.  The 
day  came,  and  all  the  money  was  in  but  thirty- 
four  dollars.  Upon  seeing  the  gentleman  re- 
ferred to,  he  noticed  that  all  was  not  yet  paid 
in,  referring  to  the  thirty-four  dollars.  Upon 
my  saying  that  I would  be  responsible  for  that 
amount,  he  kindly  gave  me  his  check. 

I had  been  asked,  some  days  before  this,  by 
Mr.  Lanpbier,  to  lead  the  Fulton  Street  Prayer 
Meeting  on  that  day,  but  as  the  time  drew 
near  I felt  that  I must  “beg  off,”  and  try  to 
obtain  that  thirty-four  dollars.  When  I saw 
him,  however,  I seemed  unable  to  disappoint 
him,  and  so  took  the  meeting.  At  the  close, 
Mr.  John  P>.  Wood,  of  Philadelphia,  whom  I 
did  not  recognize  as  ever  having  seen  before, 
came  up  and  shook  hands  with  me,  and,  with- 
out my  saying  anything  of  the  circumstances, 
took  out  of  his  pocket  a twenty-dollar  bill  and 
gave  it  to  me.  I was  so  touched  by  this  fur- 
ther proof  of  Divine  care  that  I told  him  of 
the  opportune  help  he  had  thus  afforded.  He 
again  surprised  me  by  giving  me  another 
twenty-dollar  bill,  saying,  “I  may  as  well  com- 
plete the  job.” 

181 


“tell  them.” 

The  strange  thing  was  that  he  had  never 
been  in  that  meeting  in  his  life  before,  and 
only  came  in  at  five  minutes  to  one.  I had 
only  met  him  once  before;  he  had  never  pre- 
viously given  me  any  money,  and  had  just 
“run  up”  to  New  York  on  business  that  morn- 
ing from  Philadelphia. 

A few  months  after  commencing  the  work 
in  1 88 1,  certain  expenses,  including  rent  of 
mission,  cost  of  drugs,  etc.,  had  to  be  met  by 
a certain  day  and  two  hundred  and  fifty  dol- 
lars were  needed  for  this  purpose.  But  they 
were  not  forthcoming,  even  in  part. 

I was  very  much  puzzled  and  perplexed  at 
the  time,  and  a few  days  later  was  conversing 
with  our  treasurer,  who  told  me  of  an  expe- 
rience related  to  him  by  Mr.  George  Muller, 
when  he,  on  one  occasion,  had  to  pay  three 
hundred  pounds.  The  day  came,  but  no 
money,  and  a week  had  nearly  passed,  w’hen 
a lady  called  with  a check  for  the  exact  sum 
and  remarked,  “I  made  this  check  out  some 
days  ago,  but  neglected  to  bring  it  to  you.”  • 
ctrangely  enough,  that  same  evening  our 
treasurer  met  a gentleman,  who  said  to  him, 
“I  made  you  out  a check  for  two  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars  some  days  since  for  the  medical 
mission.  I’ll  send  it  to-morrow.” 

In  January,  1892,  I contracted  a severe  at- 
tack of  pneumonia,  which  laid  me  aside  for 
five  weeks.  This  was  followed  by  a more 
severe  attack  of  pleuro-pneumoniain  the  latter 
part  of  April,  which  nearly  ended  my  earthly 
182 


A CHAPTER  OF  STIRRING  EVENTS. 


career.  During  the  month  of  May  I was  all 
but  "gone”  on  two  or  three  occasions,  and 
was  only  able  to  crawl  about  the  house  dur- 
nig  the  early  part  of  June. 

My  physician,  Dr.  J.  R.  Learning,  “ordered 
me  away”  for  two  months,  but  how  to  go  was 
the  query,  and  this  caused  some  anxious 
thought. 

Only  in  the  previous  October  had  we  lost 
our  dear  little  boy,  Percy,  aged  six  years,  from 
diphtheria.  Truly,  it  was  a dark  and  trying 
winter. 

One  day,  in  the  middle  of  June,  a letter  was 
received  from  a lady,  an  entire  stranger,  ask- 
ing if  I would  be  “offended”  if  she  sent  a little 
gift  for  the  worker,  for,  as  she  went  on  to  say, 
she  had  noticed  that  the  workers  overlooked 
themselves  in  caring  for  the  work,  and  that 
others  also  forgot  them. 

We  wondered  who  could  have  told  her  of 
our  circumstances,  and  wrote  expressing  sur- 
prise, and  making  enquiry.  The  reply  came 
stating  that  no  one  had  written  or  spoken  to 
her  about  our  needs,  but  as  she  was  making 
up  packages  of  papers  to  send  to  the  solitary 
light  house  keepers,  she  had  noticed  a copy  of 
The  Christian  Herald  for  December  30th,  1891, 
containing  an  account  of  my  work  and  mis- 
sion. The  reply  contained  a check  for  fifty 
dollars.  Two  sisters  (the  Misses  Leitch)  were 
also  led  to  send  us  fifty  dollars. 


183 


“teli.  them.” 


Chapter  XL. 

A Wonderful  Deliverance. 

In  March,  1888,  a few  months  after  the  de- 
parture of  my  beloved  wife,  the  following  ex- 
perience was  met  with. 

One  Saturday  morning  myhouskeeper  said, 
“Doctor,  I would  like  a little  money  to-day, 
please,  as  several  things  are  needed.”  There 
were  two  or  three  small  bills  to  be  paid  that 
day  also,  and  I had  been  troubled  with  the 
knowledge  that  a certain  dear  friend,  who  had 
loaned  me  seventy-five  dollars,  had  need  of  it. 
It  seemed  as  if  everything  came  at  once  that 
morning,  and  all  looked  dark.  After  making 
it  a matter  of  prayer,  I went  down  town  with 
the  intention  of  calling  upon  two  friends  who 
had  aided  in  the  past,  and  who  I thought 
might  help  now. 

Walking  along  Fulton  Street,  I passed  the 
place  where  the  noon  prayer  meeting  is  held, 
saying  to  myself  as  I did  so,  “I  should  like 
very  well  to  go  in,  but  I must  go  on,  and  see 
these  men  and  get  one  hundred  dollars  if  I 
can  to-day.”  I had  not  reached  the  corner 
before  I was  turned  around,  and  was  walking 
deliberately  back  again,  and  did  what  seemed 
at  the  time  was  contrary  to  common  sense  and 
right.  I went  into  the  meeting,  and  was 
scarcely  seated  when  in  walked  the  very  man 
184 


A WONDERFUL  DELIVERANCE. 


to  whom  I owed  the  seventy-five  dollars.  Ah! 
thought  I,  you  will  doubtless  think  I ought 
to  be  trying  to  get  that  seventy-five  dollars 
rather  than  praying  here.  Not  that  such  a 
thought  really  entered  his  mind;  for  we  were, 
and  are  still,  the  best  of  friends,  but  he  was 
there  praying  that  help  might  come  to  him 
also. 

At  the  close  of  the  meeting,  one  of  the  two 
men  I had  intended  to  call  upon  surprised  me 
by  coming  forward  and  saying,  as  he  shook 
hands  with  me,  “I  think  I must  have  been 
sent  here  for  something.”  I replied  that  I 
hoped  he  had  got  it;  but  said  nothing  of  my 
circumstances. 

“The  fact  is,  doctor,”  said  he,  “Fve  been 
thinking  about  you,”  and  so  saying  took  out 
of  his  pocket  a check  for  seventy-five  dollars. 
“There,  will  that  be  any  help  to  you?” 

I replied  that  indeed  it  would. 

“But,”  he  added,  “I  may  as  well  make  it 
even  money,”  and,  so  saying,  he  placed  twenty- 
five  dollars  in  cash  in  my  hand. 

I beckoned  to  the  friend  to  whom  I owed 
the  seventy-five  dollars,  and  handed  him  the 
check.  Then  we  three  went  apart  and  praised 
our  God.  I remarked  at  the  time  that  the 
money  was  only  a small  part  of  this  transac- 
tion, and  that  the  time  might  come  when  trou- 
bles and  trials  would  be  so  thick  that  we 
might  be  led  to  question  everything.  In  such 
times  we  would  do  well  to  remember  to-day. 
Some  time  after  this  the  friend  who  gave  me 
1S5 


“tell  them.” 

the  one  hundred  dollars  that  day  was  in  deep 
family  trouble,  and  sent  for  me.  It  helped 
him  much  then  to  be  reminded  of  my  deliver- 
ance by  his  instrumentality. 

What  was  additionally  strange  about  this 
occurrence  was  that  my  friend  had  only  been 
in  that  place  twice  in  his  life  previously;  and 
again,  I was  under  the  impression  that  he  did 
not  close  his  office  until  one  o’clock  on  Satur- 
days, whereas  he  did  so  at  noon;  so  had  I 
gone  to  his  office  I should  have  missed  him 
altogether. 

In  April,  1886,  I was  kept  awake  one  night 
and  was  led  to  decide  to  publish,  The  Medical 
Missionary,  to  disseminate  facts  concerning 
the  need  for  and  value  of  medical  missions, 
and  so  obtain  “help  for  the  helpless.” 

I had  not  a single  dollar  in  hand  at  the  time, 
and  no  subscriptions  promised,  but  early  the 
next  morning  I wrote  out  my  first  announce- 
ment of  the  paper,  to  be  printed  on  the  back 
of  the  report  of  the  Society  just  then  going 
through  the  press.  The  ink  was  not  yet  dry 
upon  the  page  I had  written  when  there  came 
by  mail  the  knowledge  that  a man  whom  I 
had  taken  into  my  full  confidence  and  had 
told  of  my  purpose  some  day  to  start  a paper 
to  be  called,  The  Medical  Missionary,  had  got 
ahead  of  me  by  issuing  the  first  number  of  a 
magazine  bearing  that  exact  title.  At  first  I 
was  terribly  staggered,  but  simply  adding  the 
word  Record,  went  on.  Only  one  number  of 
that  paper  was  ever  issued,  while  The 
186 


A WONDERFUL  DELIVERANCE. 


Medical  Missionary  Record  continues  to  this 
day.  The  first  year  the  loss  upon  the 
Record  was  $350,  but  that  was  met  by 
receipts  from  some  well-to-do  private  pa- 
tients during  that  year  whom  I was  asked 
specially  to  attend.  Each  year  there  has  been 
some  loss  on  the  journal,  up  to  the  present 
one,  but  in  some  way  or  other  the  bills  have 
all  been  paid. 

It  would  not  be  right  to  let  the  reader  sup- 
pose that  at  times  things  were  not  allowed 
to  get  very  dark  indeed  before  deliverance 
came,  but  the  darkest  hour  usually  precedes 
the  dawn,  and  must  be  passed  through  ere  the 
dawn  can  be  welcomed. 

At  times  faith  was  very  much  tried,  for 
things  did  not  come  out,  or  in,  just  as  was  de- 
sired. The  apostles  received  the  scourging, 
and  that  unjustly,  and  were  actually  placed  in 
the  innermost  dungeon,  before  it  could  be 
demonstrated  to  Paul  and  Silas,  and  to  the 
world  also,  not  only  that  “He  knoweth  how 
to  deliver,”  but  that  “all  power  in  heaven  and 
upon  earth”  has  been  given  to  Him  who  said 
it  had  been  so  given. 

The  disciples  in  the  storm;  Daniel  in  the 
den;  Joseph  in  the  pit;  Paul  in  the  shipwreck; 
Jehoshaphat  surounded  by  his  enemies  and 
helpless;  Mary  and  Martha  at  the  grave — all 
illustrate  the  fact  set  forth  by  David,  in  the 
words,  “I  was  brought  low,  and  He  helped 


187 


“tell  titem.” 


Chapter  XLI. 

The  IVidozv  and  the  Fatherless. 

To  no  class  of  persons  has  God  made  so 
many  promises  as  to  the  fatherless  and  the 
widow.  And  terrible  curses  are  pronounced 
upon  the  heads  of  those  who  take  advantage 
of  and  oppress  those  who  are  thus  left  help- 
less. 

How  the  heart  of  the  Saviour  went  out  in 
sympathy  towards  the  poor  widow  of  Nain 
when  on  the  way  to  bury  her  only  son.  No 
human  voice  or  pleading  was  required  to 
touch  His  heart.  “When  He  saw  her,  He 
had  compassion,  and  said  unto  her,  ‘Weep 
not,’  ” and  soon  “wiped  all  her  tears  away,” 
by  removing  the  cause  of  them. 

After  the  age  of  twelve,  we  have  no  men- 
tion of  Joseph,  the  reputed  father  of  Jesus. 
But  it  is  stated  that  while  on  the  cross  Jesus 
commended  his  mother  to  the  care  of  “that 
disciple  whom  Jesus  loved,”  and  it  is  written, 
“From  that  hour  that  disciple  took  her  unto 
his  own  home,”  John  xix:  17.  So  even  the 
experience  of  the  widow  and  orphan  was  one 
through  which  the  Saviour  passed,  and  with 
which  He  can  therefore  fully  sympathize. 

In  September,  1866,  when  the  writer  had 
been  married  about  three  months,  he  visited 
his  wife’s  native  town,  Gosport, and  when  leaV' 
188 


THE  WIDOW  AND  THE  FATHERLESS. 


ing  home,  he  was  asked  to  visit  some  friends 
of  his  wife’s  earlier  years,  and  did  so. 

Calling  at  one  home,  he  found  it  indeed  “a 
house  of  mourning.”  The  head  of  the  fam- 
ily, a fine,  stalwart,  sea  captain,  had  “passed 
away”  but  a few  days  before,  and  the  bereaved 
widow  and  her  four  young  children  were 
grouped  together  in  grief  for  their  loss,  and 
fear  and  anxiety  for  the  future.  The  coming 
among  them  of  a young  man  full  of  buoyancy 
and  hope — a stranger,  yet  a fellow  Christian — • 
who  tried  to  sympathize  with  and  so  “dry  the 
widow’s  tears,”  had  a good  tonic  effect. 
Having  to  stay  in  the  town  a few  days,  he 
ventured  to  ask  if  he  might  make  his  “hotel” 
there,  and  was  gladly  granted  his  desire.. 
Writing  home  to  my  wife,  I narrated  the 
circumstances,  and  asked  if  she  would  like  me 
to  bring  one  of  the  children  back  with  me. 
The  thought  was  very  pleasing  to  her,  and 
she  at  once  wrote  back  cheerfully,  “Certainly, 
1 should  be  delighted  for  you  to  bring  one  of 
the  children  home  with  you.” 

The  question  then  arose  as  to  which  one 
should  be  the  one,  a very  difficult  problem 
for  a mother  to  solve. 

The  two  older  children  were  boys,  aged 
eleven  and  nine  years;  the  younger  ones  girls 
of  seven  and  five.  The  choice  or  decision 
finally  fell  upon  the  older  of  the  two  girls — - 
Fanny — and  she  readily  accompanied  me 
home  on  my  journey  of  three  hundred  miles. 
While  it  was  a great  joy  and  pleasure  for 

i §9 


‘‘TELL  them.” 

my  wife  to  have  a bright  young  girl  compan- 
ion, it,  to  some  small  extent  at  least,  lightened 
the  widow’s  heart  and  life,  to  feel  that  some 
one — yes,  her  Father  in  heaven — was  really 
caring  for  her  and  her  fatherless  little  ones. 

The  father  and  husband  was  a man  of  great 
faith,  and  felt  that  he  could  well  trust  his  dear 
ones  to  Him  who  has  said,  “Leave  thy  father- 
less children  to  Me,”  and  he  acted  accord- 
ingly. And,  as  God  has  also  said.  “Them 
that  honor  Me,  I will  honor,”  oO  He  has  hon- 
ored him  and  his. 

Upon  my  joining  the  troop  ship  Crocodile 
about  a year  later,  we  removed  to  Gosport 
and  shared  house  and  home  with  the  Ferrins 
family  for  several  months. 

To-day  the  children  have  all  grown  up  and 
are  “doing  well.”  The  oldest  son  is  in  a good 
position  in  the  service  of  the  British  govern- 
ment. The  second  son  is  in  business  for  him- 
self, and  the  youngest  daughter  has  been  for 
some  years  engaged  in  business  in  London. 

From  1866  to  1876  the  two  families  were 
in  close  touch  and  sympathy,  but  in  the  later 
year,  it  may  be  remembered  that  the  writer 
left  Portsmouth  for  Liverpool;  and  later  on, 
in  1879,  came  to  America,  and  the  separation 
was  widened  bv  distance,  although  not  in 
sympathy. 

In  1888,  upon  my  first  visit  to  England, 
whither  I went  as  a delegate  to  the  great  mis- 
sionary conference  held  in  Exeter  Hall,  Lon- 
don, in  June  of  that  year,  I desired  to  learn 
190 


THE  WIDOW  AND  THE  FATHERLESS. 


of  the  welfare  of  my  old  friends,  from  whom 
I had  not  then  heard  for  several  years. 

I wondered  if  all  the  family  were  still  alive, 
and  realizing  the  uncertainty  of  life,  almost 
feared  to  enquire. 

However,  arriving  in  Gosport,  I found  that 
all  were  yet  alive,  had  done  well,  and  were 
doing  well.  Their  first  enquiry  was,  very 
naturally,  as  to  where  my  devoted  wife  was. 

Twenty-two  years  before,  in  1866,  I entered 
their  home — then  a house  of  mourning — now, 
in  1888,  I entered  it  again — a mourner. 

There  was  much  to  tell  and  to  hear  during 
the  next  few  days,  of  God’s  dealings  and  care 
for  the  two  families,  who  for  years  had  been 
separated  by  the  broad  Atlantic. 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  XLII. 

Retribution. 

Thoughts  there  were  in  the  heart  of  the 
visitor,  which,  however,  found  no  expression 
at  that  time.  But  will  the  reader  be  much 
surprised  to  learn  that  the  one  who,  in  1866, 
went  with  him  on  that  journey  of  three  hun- 
dred miles,  was  willing,  in  1889,  to  undertake 
a voyage  of  three  thousand  miles  to  “a  far 
country?” 

In  July  of  that  year  she  crossed  the  ocean 
as  wife  to  the  writer,  and  became  a mother  to 
the  motherless  children  of  the  one  who  wel- 
comed her  to  her  home  many  years  before — 
a fatherless  child. 

“Whatsoever  a man  soweth,  that  shall  he 
also  reap,”  is  as  true  of  right  doing  as  of 
wrong  surely.  It  certainly  seemed  true  in 
this  case. 

If  there  is  one  event  above  all  others  in 
which  we  need  to  seek,  and  be  sure  of  obtain- 
ing, Divine  guidance,  it  is  in  marriage.  And 
what  is  true  in  a first  experience,  is  more  so 
in  any  subsequent  transaction,  especially  where 
the  care  and  training  of  children  are  con- 
cerned. 

What  is  true  of  a parent  so  left,  applies  with 
equal,  if  not  greater  force,  to  the  one  who  is 
asked  to  fid  the  vacant  place. 

192 


RETRIBUTION. 


If  parents  often  realize  the  difficulty  of 
training  their  own  children,  as  they  certainly 
do,  how  much  more  must  one  do  so  who 
nobly  undertakes  the  responsibility  of  acting 
a parent’s  part. 

This  consideration  is  often  sufficient  to  de- 
ter, when  all  else  appears  favorable  to  the 
step. 

One  of  the  most  romantic  and  deeply  in- 
teresting stories  to  be  found  anywhere  is  con- 
tained in  the  twenty-fourth  chapter  of  Genesis 
— read  it. 

One  of  the  main  objects  in  the  issuance  of 
this  little  book  is  that  it  may  be  of  help  to 
others,  by  telling  of  what  God  did  for  one, 
and  what  He  is  equally  ready  to  do  for  all. 

There  were  some  incidents  connected  with 
my  taking  the  step  just  narrated,  that  are  al- 
most too  sacred  to  tell,  and  yet  I feel  led,  for 
the  sake  of  others,  and  for  the  glory  of  God, 
to  tell  them. 

The  one  who  had  been  my  devoted  partner 
in  life  for  more  than  twenty-one  years,  a few 
days  before  she  was  “taken  home,”  conversed 
with  the  husband,  whom  both  knew  she  would 
soon  be  leaving,  concerning  the  five  children 
so  soon  to  be  left  motherless.  Neither  had 
mother  or  sister  living,  who  might  act  a 
mother’s  part.  Concerning  her  going  to  the 
“home-land”  there  was  no  question,  but  some 
anxiety  was  evinced  regarding  those  who 
would  be  left  behind;  and  her  mind  reverted 
to  “Fanny,”  whom  twenty  years  before  she 
193 


RETRIBUTION. 


welcomed  to  her  heart  and  home,  and  now 
wished  she  were  by  her  side. 

In  addition  to  other  reasons,  this  was  one 
which  helped  me  in  deciding  upon  my  course 
of  action,  and  only  gratitude  finds  a place  in 
my  heart  as  in  1897  I thus  write  of  it. 

If  the  dear  little  fellow,  Percy,  of  two  and 
a half  years  old,  needed  the  care  of  a loving, 
motherly  heart,  the  oldest,  Harry,  perhaps 
needed  it  more,  and  not  less  the  three  moth- 
erless girls  between  them. 

While  the  hand  and  heart  of  God  was 
directing  me,  through  the  lips  of  a devoted, 
but  dying  wife,  the  same  One  was  controlling 
the  destiny  of  her  of  whom  she  spoke  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  For  years  we  had 
not  heard  from  her  or  her  family,  and  knew 
not  if  they  still  lived.  They,  too,  knew  not 
of  my  loss,  until,  many  months  later,  I entered 
their  home  once  more. 

No  word,  or  hint,  escaped  me  concerning 
those  things  which  were  on,  or  in,  my  heart 
in  1888  until  I returned  to  America.  Then, 
after  much  prayer,  I wrote,  and,  with  three 
thousand  miles  between  us,  each  was  better 
able  to  be  surely  guided  by  a Divine  hand  and 
heart  than  if  near  together,  and  thus  more  un- 
der the  influence  of  each  other. 


19S 


Marion  and  Clifford  Dowkontt. 


A TRIO  OF  CASES. 


Chapter  XLIII. 

A Trio  of  Cases. 

During  the  sixteen  years  that  have  passed 
since  the  opening  of  the  first  medical  mission 
in  New  York  in  1881,  over  one  hundred  thou- 
sand medical  attendances  have  been  given  to 
the  sick  poor  at  the  various  mission  dispen- 
saries since  established,  and  in  the  homes  of 
those  struggling  with  poverty,  sickness  and 
resultant  sorrow,  often,  but  not  always,  the 
outcome  of  sin  on  the  part  of  the  sufferer  or 
of  others. 

As  a result  of  these  efforts  on  the  part  of 
the  students  preparing  for  similar  work 
abroad,  they  have  been  trained  at  home  to 
labor  elsewhere  and  have  gained  much  expe- 
rience, while  they  have  also  been  the  means 
of  leading  many  of  the  vicious  and  criminal 
classes  to  forsake  the  service  of  sin  and  Satan 
for  that  of  the  Saviour  of  men. 

In  short,  scenes  have  often  been  witnessed 
over  which  angels  must  have  rejoiced  in 
heaven,  as  saints  and  sinners  did  rejoice  over 
on  earth.  And  what  greater  or  grander  sights 
can  mortal  eyes  look  upon. 

The  following  trio  of  cases,  occurring  in 
the  early  history  of  the  Society,  may  serve 
to  illustrate  the  power  of  this  agency  to  reach 
i97 


“tell  them.” 

the  various  classes  who  are  more  or  less  in- 
accessible to  ordinary  Christian  effort. 

One  day  a poor  Christian  woman  asked  me 
to  visit  her  cousin,  a man  well  on  in  years, 
and  a violent  infidel.  Neither  relatives  nor 
friends  dare  speak  to  him  about  his  soul.  His 
Christian  parents  were  long  since  dead,  but 
upon  going  to  him  an  entrance  was  gained 
to  his  home,  his  heart  and  his  soul.  He  had 
a half-witted  son,  with  whom  he  spent  his 
time  playing  with  a pack  of  greasy,  black 
cards,  but  a few  weeks  after  my  first  visit  the 
cards  went  out  and  the  Bible  came  in,  and 
there  was  great  rejoicing. 

He  had  been  in  the  employ  of  one  of  the 
leading  firms  in  New  York  for  thirty  years. 
Had  been  sick  over  six  months,  and  the  al- 
lowance from  his  sick  club  had  ceased  after 
six  months.  The  first  thing  done  was  to  se- 
cure from  his  employers  an  allowance  of 
twenty  dollars  a month,  which  was  continued 
until  his  death  some  months  later. 

After  “the  change”  took  place  everybody 
was  welcome,  even  to  the  previously  despised 
minister,  and  prayer  meetings  were  held  in 
his  room  as  often  as  he  could  get  any  one  to 
pray  there.  His  last  words  were,  “Be  sure 
and  tell  the  doctor  I died  trusting  in  Jesus, 
and  ask  him  to  tell  my  mates  at  the  funeral 
of  the  great  change  in  me.” 

One  day  a poor  fellow  with  bleared,  blood- 
shot eyes  and  breath  reeking  with  rum,  came 
with  his  arm  injured.  “Doctor,  I fear  my 
198 


A TRIO  OF  CASES. 


arm’s  broke,  I wish  you'd  see  to  it.”  I did 
so  and  found  it  was  not  broken,  but  severely 
sprained.  Having  attended  to  it,  I spoke  to 
him  as  follows: 

“John,  do  you  know  what  I was  thinking 
of  when  I wrote  your  name  in  my  book?” 
“No,  doctor;  what?” 

“Well,  I was  wondering  if,  when  your 
mother  gave  you  that  name,  she  did  not  hope 
that  some  day  you  might  be  like  one  of  those 
Johns  that  we  read  of  in  the  old  Book.” 
“Well,  doctor,  I shouldn’t  wonder  but  she 
did,  but  I’m  not  like  one  of  them,  and  never 
will  be.  But  please  let  me  go,  I only  came 
to  get  my  arm  seen  to.” 

“Yes,  I know,  John,  but  having  seen  to  it 
for  you,  you  surely  won’t  go  away  like  that.” 
At  first  it  was  vain  to  plead.  He  knew  he 
was  lost,  he  said,  but  he  did  not  want  to  think 
about  it  nor  get  “there”  any  sooner  than  he 
could  help.  He  was  afraid  to  pi  ay  or  touch 
the  Bible,  as  he  was  urged  to  look  at  a verse, 
for  fear  God  would  strike  him  dead.  He 
had  cursed  God,  he  said,  as  he  came  into  the 
mission,  although  he  came  to  God’s  servant 
for  relief. 

But  it  was  not  all  in  vain,  however.  That 
man  prayed  and  wept  ere  he  left  that  place: 
prayed  not  only  for  himself,  but  for  his  poor 
drunken  wife,  too,  and  they  both  became 
Christians,  the  man  a deacon  of  a Presbyte- 
rian church. 

One  afternoon  a poor  woman  with  a baby 

199 


“tell  them.” 

in  her  arms  and  a little  boy  of  five  years  by 
her  side,  came  to  the  mission,  and,  while  the 
service  was  proceeding,  she  laughed  several 
times.  Curious  to  know  the  cause  of  such 
strange  conduct,  I found  that  she  had  often 
been  to  the  place  when  it  was  a liquor  store, 
and  had  witnessed  strange  sights  there;  and 
now  finding  the  liquor  store  a dispensary,  and 
then  “to  hear  the  ‘Word  o’  God,'  ” as  she  said, 
“read  there,”  the  contrast  was  to  her  ludic- 
rous. However,  she  came  to  the  meeting 
that  night,  and  upon  returning  home  her 
husband,  a rough  man,  asked,  “Where  have 
you  been?”  “To  the  mission.”  “Well,  then, 
clear  out.”  She  did  so  very  quickly,  taking 
the  baby  with  her.  The  little  boy  essayed  to 
follow,  but  the  father  called  him  back.  “You 
come  here.  What  are  you  crying  for,  eh?” 
“Well,  papa,  if  you  knowed  what  they  said 
there,  you  wouldn’t  turn  mother  out.”  “What 
did  they  say?”  “They  said,  ‘Wash  me  and  I 
shall  be  whiter  than  snow.’  ” The  word  went 
home  to  the  man’s  heart.  Presently  he  said, 
“Go  and  call  your  mother  back,”  and  the  boy 
quickly  obeyed.  A few  nights  later  that  man 
was  at  the  meeting,  and  a few  weeks  after 
the  wife  brought  the  glad  news: 

“Doctor,  I’m  so  glad,  my  Jem’s  converted.” 
Often  would  she  testify  of  what  Jesus  had 
done  for  her  and  hers  through  the  mission. 
Some  months  later  the  man  took  very  sick 
and  nearly  died.  Then  the  two  children  sick- 
ened with  measles  and  bronchitis,  and  before 


200 


A TRIO  OF  CASES. 


they  could  get  well  the  poor  woman’s  health 
gave  way  under  the  strain  of  poverty  and  de- 
votion to  her  dear  ones. 

One  morning  she  awoke  her  husband  and 
said,  "Jem,  I think  I’m  dying;  I wish  you’d 
get  out  and  kneel  down  and  say  a prayer  for 
me.”  As  well  as  he  could — and  surely  as  well 
as  was  needed  to  obtain  the  answer — he  prayed, 
then  arose  to  get  his  devoted  wife  a drink. 
Returning  to  the  bedside,  he  found  she  had 
“gone”  to  drink  of  the  Water  of  Life. 

The  following  three  sketches  of  cases  ap- 
peared in  The  Nezv  York  Witness,  and  led 
several  to  send  us  help: 


201 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  XLIV. 

Dead,  Biit  Alive  Again. 

“Shure,  an’  she’s  not  long  for  this  world, 
the  poor  thing,  wid  such  a cough  as  that.” 

“No,  indeed,  I should  say  not,  either;  it’s 
terrible  to  hear  what  a hollow  sound  it  has, 
isn’t  it?  Do  you  know  her?” 

“Not  much — only  by  sight — seein’  her 
round  about  the  Fourth  Ward  now  and  then. 
She’s  just  one  of  them  poor,  unfortunate  crit- 
ters as  there’s  too  many  of  about  this  quarter; 
an’  they  dies  off  by  scores  afore  they’re  hardly 
women.” 

“Indeed!  Then  you  know  somethingabout 
this  part  of  the  city?” 

“Well,  I should  say  I did.  Why,  I been 
livin’  round  this  quarter  for  more  ’n  thirty 
years.” 

“Is  that  so?  Well,  I’ve  always  lived  up 
town  till  lately,  but  since  I lost  my  husband 
and  was  left  with  four  little  ones,  things  have 
altered  much  with  me;  and  my  health  has  got 
so  poorly  recently  that  I felt  I must  come  and 
see  the  doctor,  and  get  something  to 
strengthen  me.” 

“Well,  yer  looks  kind  o’  white  lookin’,  but 
the  doctor  ’ll  no  doubt  do  yer  good.” 

“Ah!  My  friend  said  so  who  advised  me 
to  come.  She  had  been  here  and  got  relief 


202 


DEAD,  BUT  ALIVE  AGAIN. 

herself;  and  she  said  that  the  doctor  reads  out 
of  the  Bible  and  speaks  to  the  patients.” 

“Oh,  yes,  that  he  does;  an’  I likes  to  ’ear 
it,  for  the  way  it  is,  as  yer  know,  with  us  poor 
people,  we  don’t  seem  to  ’ave  no  time  to  think 
about  our  poor  souls  at  all.” 

“Yes,  that  is  so,  is  it  not?  We  are  all  the 
time  caring  for  the  body  and  forgetting  the 
soul.” 

“But  I can  tell  yer,  I well  remember  the 
time  when  there  warn’t  no  preachin’  done  ’ere 
— only  plenty  of  whiskey,  an’  lots  o’  devil’s 
work.” 

“Indeed ” 

“Yes;  it’s  myself  as  knows  it  Why,  this 
place  was  a rum-’ole  ever  since  the  ’ouse  was 
built,  more’n  thirty  years  ago,  till  the  doctor 
took  it  and  turned  the  saloon  keeper  out.” 

“Dear  me!  what  a change ” 

“Yes,  and  I can  tell  yer  there’s  been  as  big 
a change  in  me  since  I come  ’ere!” 

“Well,  I’m  glad  to  hear  that.” 

“Why,  I’ve  often  been  in  ’ere  for  my  drops 
for  me  an’  my  ole  man;  specially  Sunday 
mornin’s;  then  we  had  to  go  to  the  side  door 
over  there;  it’s  the  same  door  and  the  same 
place,  but  it  don’t  seem  the  same  any  more 
than  I’m  the  same  as  I used  to  be,  for  since 
I come  ’ere  I’ve  given  myself  right  up  to 
Jesus,  an’  I’m  a deal  happier  in  my  mind,  an’ 
I find  as  things  go  along  better  every  way.” 
“Well,  I cannot  but  rejoice  with  you,  for 
although  I have  had  my  struggles,  still  I al- 
203 


“teli.  them.” 


ways  know  where  to  go  to,  as  the  little  hymn 
says: 

“ What  a Friend  we  have  in  Jesus, 

All  our  sins  and  griefs  to  bear; 

What  a privilege  to  carry 

Everything  to  God  in  prayer/’ 

“Why,  they  sing  that  ’im  'ere  o’  nights,  an’ 
there’s  a dear  lady  what  comes  ’ere  too;  yer'll 
see  ’er  presently.  You  must  comedown  some 
night.” 

“Yes,  I will.” 

The  foregoing  conversation  might  have 
been  overheard  one  afternoon  in  the  waiting 
room  of  the  New  York  Medical  Mission,  81 
Roosevelt  Street,  between  two  of  the  many 
patients  who  were  gathered  there. 

The  entrance  of  the  doctor,  and  the  lady 
referred  to,  caused  the  speakers  to  stop  talk- 
ing. After  a few  moments  spent  in  prayer, 
the  doctor  proceeded  to  speak  to  those  pre- 
sent upon  the  great  joy  the  Saviour  had  in  re- 
ceiving sinners,  as  shown  by  the  parable  of 
the  lost  sheep  in  the  fifteenth  of  Luke.  “You 
see,  my  dear  friends,  that  Jesus  is  not  only 
willing  to  receive  sinners  who  have  wandered 
far  away  from  God,  and  able  to  save  them, 
but  He  rejoices  over  them,  and  even  calls  all 
heaven  to  rejoice  too,  and  not  over  a hun- 
dred, but  over  just  one.  And  now  let  me  ask 
you,  has  there  been  joy  there  over  you  yet? 
If  not,  God  grant  there  maybe  even  to-day.” 
A few  words  of  prayer  followed,  in  which 
God’s  blessing  was  sought,  both  as  regards 


204 


DEAD,  BUT  ALIVE  AGAIN. 

the  physical  and  spiritual  needs  of  those  pre- 
sent, and  then  the  patients  came  into  the  con- 
sulting room,  one  by  one. 

“This  poor  girl's  very  sick,  sir,”  said  the 
janitor  as  he  assisted  the  poor  creature,  whose 
cough  had  been  so  distressing,  into  the  doc- 
tor’s room. 

“Sit  down,  my  girl,  and  tell  me  all  about 
yourself.  What  is  your  name?” 

“Mary  Connor.” 

“And  how  old  are  you?” 

“Twenty-one,  doctor.” 

“Where  do  you  live?” 

“No.  — Water  Street,  sir,  just  round  the 
corner.” 

“How  long  have  you  been  sick?” 

“Oh,  for  some  months  now;  only  I thought 
it  would  wear  off,  and  so  I did  not  go  to  a 
doctor.  But  I’m  so  bad  now  I can’t  rest,  and 
I have  had  hardly  any  sleep  for  several 
nights.” 

The  doctor  having  asked  some  more  ques- 
tions, and  examined  the  poor  girl  (although 
little  of  that  was  needed  to  convince  him  that 
she  was  in  the  last  stage  of  consumption),  in 
a kindly  manner  said:  “Well,  my  poor  girl, 
I am  afraid  there  is  not  much  that  I can  do 
for  you,  except  to  give  you  some  temporary 
relief.  But  tell  me,  how  is  it  about  your  poor 
soul?  Have  you  thought  about  that?” 

“Not  much,  sir,  I must  own.  But  now  and 
then — just  at  times — I have.  But  then  I’d 
take  a good  drink,  to  drown  it  all.” 

205 


“tell  them.” 

“Just  so.  And  that  is  just  how  the  devil  is 
doing  all  the  time  when  God,  by  His  Spirit, 
is  seeking  one  of  His  poor  lost  sheep.  He 
tells  them  to  take  this  cursed  stuff,  and  so 
they  drive  off  their  best  friend  from  them  and 
don’t  know  it.” 

Here  the  poor  girl  dropped  her  head,  and, 
realizing  the  force  of  the  truth  presented, 
burst  into  tears,  and  then  said,  “Doctor,  the 
name  I gave  you  just  now  was  not  my  right 
one,  only  one  that  I took  when  I began  this 
devil’s  life.” 

“Indeed,  then,  what  is  your  right  name?” 
“Why,  it’s  Grace  Brown.” 

“Well,  I am  glad  you  have  told  me  that; 
it’s  just  one  step  towards  right  to  give  up  the 
devil’s  lie.  But,  tell  me,  are  your  father  and 
mother  living,  Grace?” 

“I  really  don’t  know,  sir.” 

“Indeed;  then  how  long  since  you  heard 
from  them?” 

“Why,  never  since  I left  home,  and  that’s 
just  four  years  ago.” 

“And  you  have  never  heard  of  or  from 
them,  or  written  to  them?” 

“No,  sir,”  and  the  poor  girl  burst  out  with, 
“Oh,  my  poor  mother!  shall  I ever  see  her 
again?  She’s  no  doubt  dead.  I fear  I must 
have  killed  her.  I’ve  beenashamed  and  afraid 
to  write,  and  thought  I would  just  die  as  I’ve 
lived;  but,  oh,  it  may  be  that  God  has  sent 
me  here  to-day  so  that  I may  yet  see  her 
again.” 


206 


DEAD,  BUT  ALIVE  AGAIN. 

“I’m  glad  you  have  that  thought,  Grace, 
and  don’t  you  see  it’s  just  in  keeping  with 
what  Jesus  says  about  ‘seeking  till  He  find  it;’ 
so  He  has  been  seeking  you  all  this  time,  and 
now  I trust  He  has  found  you.  Thank  God 
for  it.”  Having  obtained  the  address  of  her 
parents,  and  given  her  such  assistance  as  she 
seemed  to  need,  the  doctor  bade  her  go  home 
and  remain  there,  and  he  would  see  her  the 
next  day. 

“Good  day,  sir;  and  I thank  God  I came 
here  to-day,  for  I feel  better  in  my  mind  now, 
at  any  rate.” 

As  soon  as  the  rest  of  the  patients  had  been 
seen,  a letter  was  written  to  Grace’s  parents, 
who  resided  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from 
New  York  City. 

The  next  day  the  doctor  and  the  lady  re- 
ferred to  visited  Grace — it  was  indeed  a horri- 
ble place.  She  had  been  cast  off  by  those 
who  had  profited  by  her  sin,  and  a poor  man 
and  woman,  though  very  rough  in  their  ways, 
had  kindly  hearts  enough  to  take  her  in;  for, 
as  they  said,  “they  had  children  of  their  own, 
and  they  didn’t  know  what  they  might  come 
to  afore  they  died.” 

When  told  that  her  parents  had  been  writ- 
ten to,  poor  Grace  expressed  her  joy,  and  said, 
“I  shall  be  so  anxious  now,  doctor,  till  you 
get  an  answer,  so  that  I may  know  if  they  are 
still  alive  and  will  let  me  come  home.” 

“Depend  upon  it,  you  shall  know  of  it  just 
as  soon  as  we  hear  from  them.” 


207 


“tell  them.” 

That  afternoon  a telegram  was  received 
from  her  father,  “Our  hearts  are  full  of  joy. 
We  long  to  welcome  our  poor  Grade.  All 
are  still  alive.  Will  write  more.” 

When  the  poor  girl  received  this  news,  her 
joy  knew  no  bounds;  and  one  could  not  but 
see  that  it  was  a joy  that  a stranger  could  not 
meddle  with,  as  the  Scripture  says.  A letter 
followed,  full  of  expressions  of  rejoicing  at  the 
prospect  of  meeting  their  lost  one,  who,  as  the 
father  said,  was  “dead,  but  is  alive  again;  for,” 
said  he,  “my  boy  has  been  twice  to  New  York 
City  to  try  and  find  her,  in  vain,  and  now  by 
this  sickness  she  is  found.” 

One  morning  a finely  built  young  man 
came  to  the  dispensary  and  asked  if  Dr.  Dow- 
kontt  was  in.  On  seeing  him,  he  inquired, 
somewhat  impatiently: 

“Where  is  she?” 

“Who  do  you  mean?”  asked  the  doctor. 

“Why,  my  poor  sister,  Grace;  is  she  here? 
Let  me  see  her,  sir,  at  once.  Oh.  don’t  keep 
me  waiting!” 

“She  is  not  here,  my  dear  fellow,  but  I will 
soon  take  you  to  where  she  is;”  and  putting 
on  his  hat,  the  doctor  led  the  way.  As  they 
turned  into  Water  Street,  the  young  man 
asked: 

“What!  is  she  down  here?” 

“Yes,”  replied  the  doctor.  “Come  along; 
you  need  not  be  afraid,  as  I am  with  you,  al- 
though it  is  a pretty  dangerous  place,  I can 
tell  you.” 


208 


DEAD,  CUT  ALIVE  AGAIN. 

“Yes,  I can  see  that  by  all  these  fellows  and 
girls  standing  about.” 

“This  is  the  house,”  said  the  doctor,  as  they 
entered  a wretched  tenement;  the  stairs 
seemed  to  give  way  under  them  as  they  as- 
cended. The  young  man,|  with  a shudder, 
exclaimed: 

“Oh,  my  God!  is  it  possible  my  poor  sister 
is  here?” 

"Yes,  it  is,  and  you  will  see  her  directly; 
only  try  and  compose  yourself  all  you  can.” 

Knocking  at  the  door,  the  doctor  asked  if 
Mary  was  there. 

“But  my  sister’s  name  is  Grace,  not  Mary.” 

“That's  all  right;  Mary  is  the  name  they 
know  her  by.” 

The  door  opened  and  the  doctor  entered 
first.  Poor  Grace  came  forward  out  of  an 
inner  bed  room. 

“Mary,  I have  brought  a friend  to  see  you,” 
said  the  doctor,  as  the  brother  entered.  Each 
scanned  the  other  for  a moment;  but  Grace, 
recognizing  her  brother  first,  shrieked: 

“Oh,  my  brother!  it’s  Tom!  Oh,  my  God!” 
and  fell  on  his  neck;  as  Tom  recognized  the 
voice,  they  wept  for  joy.  As  soon  as  they 
had  become  somewhat  calmed,  Grace  asked 
concerning  her  poor  father  and  mother  and 
brothers  and  sisters;  and  upon  hearing  that 
they  were  all  still  alive,  and  waiting  to  wel- 
come her,  she  burst  into  tears,  exclaiming: 

“Thank  God!  Thank  God!  I shall  yet 
see  them  again.” 


“tell  them.” 


That  afternoon  some  conversation  took 
place  between  Tom  and  the  doctor  concerning 
arrangements  for  poor  Grace  to  return  home. 

“Well,”  said  Tom,  “I  had  to  wait  till  yester- 
day to  get  my  pay,  and  as  I’ve  a wife  and  chil- 
dren to  support,  and  the  poor  old  people  are 
getting  on  in  years,  they  can’t  do  much;  so 
I had  to  pawn  my  watch  to  make  up  the  ten 
dollars  to  come  with.  I know  I shall  lose 
my  job  over  this,  but  I don’t  mind.  She  had 
better  go  home  to-night  with  my  ticket,  and 
I can  get  home  somehow.” 

“Oh,  but  you  can’t  do  that,1  said  the  doctor, 
admiring  Tom’s  self-denial. 

‘Oh,  yes,”  said  Tom.  “I  can  foot  it  some- 
how, or  maybe  I can  get  a job  in  the  city,  and 
then  I can  save  up  enough  in  a week  or  two 
to  get  home  with — in  fact,  doctor,  that’s  the 
only  way  as  I see  it  can  be  done.” 

“Well,  you  leave  that  to  the  Lord,  and  I’ll 
go  and  see  a friend  of  mine  and  see  what  he 
will  do.  I am  sorry  I haven’t  any  means  by 
me  to  help  you  with.  I wish  I had;  but  never 
mind;  no  doubt  some  help  will  come.” 

“Thank  you,  doctor,  a thousand  times.  I 
only  wish  you  could  see  the  old  couple.  Why, 
when  your  letter  came  my  poor  old  mother 
nearly  went  out  of  her  mind  for  joy — in  fact, 
we  thought  she  would  never  come  right — for 
she  tore  the  hair  out  of  her  head  by  handfuls, 
crying  out  for  her  ‘poor  Grade.’  ” 

That  night  (Saturday)  Gracie,  Tom  and  the 
doctor,  were  at  the  Grand  Central  Depot 
210 


DEAD,  BUT  ALIVE  AGAIN. 

awaiting  the  nine  P.  M.  train  for  the  West. 
Having  boarded  the  train  and  given  special 
instruction  as  to  Grace’s  being  kept  warm, 
and  seeing  that  they  were  supplied  with  some 
refreshments,  the  doctor  bade  them  "good- 
bye.” 

Poor  Grace  and  Tom  seemed  quite  unable 
to  express  the  gratitude  they  felt  as  they  said, 
“May  the  Lord  bless  you,  doctor,  and  make 
you  the  means  of  saving  many  more,  and  if 
we  never  meet  again  on  earth,  the  Lord  bring 
us  to  heaven.” 

It  was  the  close  of  the  following  week  when 
a letter  was  received  by  the  doctor  from 
Grace’s  father,  in  which  he  told  with  deep 
feeling  that  his  poor  lost  one  had  gone  to  “the 
better  land,”  on  the  Wednesday  after  arriving 
home,  “and,”  said  he,  “I  have  seen  many  die, 
for  I am  over  seventy  years  old,  but  I never 
saw  any  one  die  so  happy  as  our  poor  Gracie. 
Yes,  she  just  came  home  to  die,  but,  thank 
God,  we  saw  her  and  had  her  with  us  at  the 
last;  and,  my  dear  doctor,  I don’t  know  how 
to  thank  you  enough,  but  I give  you  ‘a  million 
of  thanks’  for  your  kindness  to  my  poor,  lost 
Gracie.” 


21 1 


SOME  TROPHIES. 


Chapter  XLV. 

Some  Trophies. 

“Is  the  docther  in,  sir?”  asked  a poor  Irish- 
woman, quite  out  of  breath  with  the  effort  she 
had  made  to  get  to  the  dispensary. 

"Yes,  he  is,”  replied  the  janitor. 

“Thank  Gcd  for  that!  Will  you  tell  ’im  as 
I wants  ’im  at  once,  please?” 

“Yes;  but  what’s  the  matter?” 

“Why,  there  is  a poor  woman  as  is  kilt  in- 
tirely,  so  she  is,  and  she’ll  die  if  the  docther 
isn't  quick  there.” 

On  being  shown  into  the  consulting  room, 
she  burst  out  with : 

"Och,  docther,  dear,  come  aroun’  quick. 

There’s  poor  Mrs.  W , yer  knows  ’er — 

she’s  been  ’ere — an’  now  she’s  a-bleedin’  to 
death.” 

The  doctor  snatched  up  his  hat  and  hastened 
to  accompany  the  speaker,  and  on  the  way  to 
the  house  endeavored  to  obtain  further  infor- 
mation respecting  the  case,  so  as  to  be  the 
better  prepared.  “Tell  me  how  it  all  hap- 
pened.” 

“Indeed  an’  I will,  docther.  Shure,  it’s  ’er 
’usban’  that’s  to  blame,  so  it  is.” 

“Well,  what  did  he  do?”  asked  the  doctor. 

“Why,  sur,  he  ’it  ’er  on  the  ’ead  wid  a great 
dish,  an’  she,  the  poor  woman,  as  nice  a little 
body  as  ever  lived,  the  Lord  ’av  mercy  on  us!” 
213 


“Tell  them.” 


“I  suppose  the  drink  had  to  do  with  it,  as 
usual?”  queried  the  doctor. 

“Yes,  indeed,  sur;  but  it  wasn’t  she  as  took 
it,  only  ’ini.” 

By  this  time  they  had  arrived  at  the  door 
of  the  house,  which  was  situated  in  a long 
alley  with  a row  of  houses  on  either  side  and 
only  one  entrance — a dangerous  place  this  at 
one  time,  where  a policeman  dare  not  enter 
alone,  and  where  a number  of  them  together 
were  none  too  safe  to  enter,  for  all  sorts  of 
missiles,  including  brick-bats,  etc.,  would  be 
showered  down  upon  their  heads  from  the 
windows  and  roofs ; but  things  had  changed  a 
good  deal  of  late  under  better  management. 

“This  is  the  place,  sir;  come  right  in  an’ 
welcome,  sir,”  said  the  guide. 

It  was  indeed  a sad  sight  that  met  the  doc- 
tor’s gaze  as  he  entered  the  room;  there  sat 

Mrs.  W covered  with  blood,  which  was 

flowing  freely  from  the  wounds  in  her  head. 

A couple  of  the  neighbors  were  trying  to 
cheer  her,  as  they  supported  her  in  the  chair 
in  which  she  was  seated. 

Upon  examination,  the  doctor  found  her  in 
a fainting  condition  from  loss  of  blood,  and 
after  giving  some  restoratives,  proceeded  to 
wash  away  the  blood  and  discover  the  wounds, 
which  \vas  no  easy  task. 

While  this  was  being  done,  the  women  pre- 
sent were  very  free  in  their  denunciation  of 
the  husband’s  conduct,  who,  as  they  said,  with 
a good  deal  of  truth,  would  make  three  of  her; 

214 


SOME  TROPHIES. 


but  none  of  them  seemed  to  blame  either  the 
devil,  the  drink,  the  drink-seller,  or  those  who 
licensed  the  sale  of  that  which  is  the  cause  of 
so  much  misery. 

How  true  it  is  that  Satan  blinds  the  eyes  of 
the  people,  as  the  Word  of  God  says:  “Lest 
they  should  see  with  their  eyes,  and  be  con- 
verted, and  I should  heal  them.” 

Having  discovered  the  locality  and  extent 
of  the  wounds,  removed  some  of  the  hair,  and 
applied  the  needed  dressing,  the  doctor  pro- 
ceeded briefly,  but  tersely,  to  point  out  to  his 
audience  the  results  of  drink.  “I  tell  you,  my 
friends,”  said  he,  “when  you  take  this  cursed 
drink,  you,  so  to  speak,  take  the  devil  into 
vou,  and  you  place  yourselves  entirely  in  his 
power;  now  just  think  of  this  case;  this  poor 
woman  might  now  be  lying  dead  and  her  fool- 
ish husband  would  have  been  tried,  and  would 
no  doubt,  have  been  hung  for  murder,  and 
all  through  this  cursed  drink.” 

“Yes,  indeed,  its  thrue  for  yez,  docther,  so 
it  is,  for  it’s  only  God’s  mercy  she’s  not  killed, 
I’m  sure.” 

“You  may  well  say  that,  my  friend,  for  had 
the  dish  not  broken,  or  had  it  struck  the  poor 
woman  on  its  edge  instead  of  on  the  flat  part 
of  it,  she  most  certainly  would  have  been 
killed;  and  I’ll  tell  you  more;  her  husband 
would  have  found  out  what  many  more  have 
done,  that  the  one  who  led  him  into  the  trou- 
ble would  never  help  him  out— I mean  the 
devil.” 


215 


“tell  them.” 

“No,  indeed,  that’s  true  enough,  sir.  He 
drags  us  into  it,  though,  plenty,  if  we  let  him,” 
chimed  in  one  of  the  women. 

“Well,  now,  my  friends,”  said  the  doctor, 
“the  patient  must  be  left  quiet  or  the  result 
may  yet  be  very  seriousj  and,  as  I am  leaving 
you,  I want  to  tell  you  just  two  things  for  you 
to  think  over.  One  is  this:  I have  been  offer- 
ing a five-dollar  bill  for  more  than  two  years 
now  to  the  man  or  woman  who  can  tell  me 
that  the  devil  helped  them  out  of  trouble  just 
once  in  all  their  lives.” 

“Och,  shure,  sir;  he  never  does  that.” 

“Well,  then,  don’t  let  him  drag  you  into  it, 
but  look  to  the  great  Physician,  who  died 
for  you  on  the  cross  so  that  we  might  be  saved 
out  of  the  trouble  the  devil  would  drag  us 
into.” 

“The  Lord  help  us  to  do  so.  sir.” 

“And  now  the  other  thing  I want  to  say  is 
this:  I Avant  you  to  do  as  I did  thirty  years 
ago,  and  that  is,  give  up  this  terrible  drink, 
which  I call  ‘the  devil’s  right  arm,’  and  never 
let  it  come  into  your  houses;  it  never  comes 
into  mine,  and  I have  six  children,  and  none 
of  them  ever  tasted  it,  and  I hope  they  never 
will.” 

“That  the  Lord  may  pour  His  blessin’  on 
you  and  yours,  and  give  yer  all  a place  in 
’eaven,  and  do  so  for  all  of  us,”  exclaimed  the 
doctor’s  guide,  as  he  bade  them  good  night. 

One  evening,  about  ten  days  after  the  above 
occurrence  transpired,  a tall,  powerfully  built 
216 


SOME  TROPHIES. 


man,  accompanied  by  a little  woman,  entered 
the  Medical  Mission  Dispensary,  at  81  Roose- 
velt Street,  during  the  meeting  held  for  those 
of  the  patients  or  others  who  could  attend. 

The  subject  dealt  with  was  the  ability  and 
willingness  of  Christ  to  save  to  the  uttermost 
all  who  came  unto  God  by  Him. 

An  appeal  was  afterwards  made  for  any  who 
felt  their  need  of  the  Saviour,  and  who  be- 
lieved He  was  able  and  willing  to  save  them, 
to  stand  up  and  say  so. 

The  tall  man  rose  up  and  said:  “Doctor,  I 
want  to  find  Jesus.  I’ve  come  here  with  my 
wife  to  give  myself  to  God.  I want  peace, 
for  I’ve  had  no  rest  for  days;  and  last  night 
I could  not  sleep  at  all,  thinking  of  my  sins, 
and  of  my  poor  dead  praying  mother.  I want 
you  to  pray  that  I may  find  Jesus  to-night.” 

During  the  utterance  of  these  sentences  the 
strong  man  trembled,  and  the  tears  coursed 
down  his  cheeks,  showing  his  deep  earnest- 
ness. 

When  he  sat  down,  his  wife  stood  up,  and 
in  a weak  voice  said:  “Doctor,  I want  to  thank 
God  that  He  spared  my  life,  and  also  my  hus- 
band’s, and  to  thank  you  for  your  kindness 
to  us ; and  now  I want  you  all  to  pray  that  we 
may  both  be  saved.” 

Others  followed,  and  then  some  time  was 
spent  in  prayer.  Upon  rising  from  their 
knees,  the  strong  man,  and  the  weak  woman 
by  his  side,  testified  to  a newly-found  peace, 
and  there  was  joy  in  their  hearts,  and  in  the 
217 


“tell  them.” 

hearts  of  those  at  the  little  meeting,  and  we 
felt  sure  that 

There  arose  a cry  to  the  gates  of  heaven, 

‘ Rejoice  ! 1 have  found  My  sheep;’ 

And  the  angels  echoed  around  the  throne, 

‘ Rejoice,  for  the  Loid  brings  back  Ilis  own  ! ’ ” 

On  the  Sunday  following,  they  were  both 
in  their  places,  and  the  man  said:  “My  heart 
is  full  of  praise  to  God,  because  He  saved  me; 
isn't  it  wonderful?  Why,  I had  only  one  step 
more  and  I should  have  been  in  hell,  and  never 
have  seen  my  dear  mother;  but  now  I can  look 
forward  to  meet  her.  Praise  the  Lord!  Be- 
fore this,  1 used  to  despise  the  Bible,  and  wor- 
ship the  beer  can;  but  now  it  is  changed,  and 
we  have  peace  and  happiness  in  our  home.” 


218 


LIFE  LESSONS  LEARNED. 


Chapter  XLVI. 

Life  Lessons  Learned. 

To  one  who  has  lived  for  half  a century  and 
more,  and  whose  life  has  been  one  of  continu- 
ous struggle,  as  indeed  most  lives  are,  there 
is  nothing,  perhaps,  so  calculated  to  produce 
mingled  feelings  of  joy  and  sadness,  pain  and 
pleasure,  as  a retrospective  view  of  the  years 
lived,  never  to  be  lived  again. 

Journeying  through  the  “school  of  life”  for 
fifty  years  ought  to  be  freighted  with  many 
lessons  well  learned  and  rewards  well  earned; 
but,  alas!  we  are  poor  scholars  at  best,  and 
few  can  find  satisfaction  with  the  life  they  have 
lived,  so  fraught  with  blessing,  and  yet  so  bur- 
dened with  sin,  sorrow  and  frequent  failure. 
David  said,  or  wrote,  “Surely  goodness  and 
mercy  shall  follow  me  all  the  days  of  my  life.” 
He  doubtless  so  wrote  because  he  realized  that 
they  had  been  following  him  in  all  the  past 
days  of  his  life. 

The  goodness  of  God  following  man  all  the 
time,  and  yet  mercy  also,  because  of  his  prone- 
ness to  sin,  in  spite  of  all  God’s  goodness. 

Thus  does  the  goodness  of  God  and  the  vile- 
ness of  man  appear  by  contrast. 

How  much  of  this  has  been  true  in  the 
writer’s  experience  cannot  be  told,  for  “God 
only  knows,  the  love  of  God.” 

219 


“tell  them.” 

There  are,  however,  some  things  which 
stand  out  prominently  as  lessons  at  least  partly 
learned,  that  the  writer  may  be  allowed  to 
mention  here,  and  which  may  prove  helpful 
to  our  readers. 

First.  “The  faithfulness  of  God.” 

The  preceding  pages  contain  many  evi- 
dences of  Divine  watch-care;  not  only  over 
those  who  trust  in  Him,  and  pray  to  Him,  but 
also  over  those  who  themselves  are  careless, 
and  yet,  and  because  of  this  perhaps,  have 
been  “entrusted”  to  Him  by  loving  hearts. 

Shall  a mother’s  dying  prayer  for  her  child 
not  be  heard  and  answered  by  her  Father  in 
heaven?  “Master,  I have  brought  unto  Thee 
my  son,  which  is  lunatic,”  and  “he  was 
healed.”  She  of  Canaan  “besought  Him  for 
her  daughter,”  and  she,  too,  was  healed.  Oh! 
for  more  of  faith  that  brings  others  to  the 
Master,  to  whom  the  children  were  brought, 
and  who  said  to  one  concerning  his  son, 
“Bring  him  to  Me.” 

Another  lesson  is,  not  only  to  “Wait  on 
God,”  but  to  “Wait  for  God.” 

Wait  on  Him  in  prayer,  and  wait  for  Him 
to  answer. 

As  an  illustration  of  this,  the  manuscript  for 
this  little  book,  in  large  part,  at  least,  was 
written  many  months  before  any  of  it  was  in 
type,  “waiting  for  God.”  A friend,  Mr.  L. 
D.  West,  came  one  day  and  offered  me  the  use 
of  one  hundred  dollars,  to  “help  get  the  book 


220 


LIFE  LESSONS  LEARNED. 

out,”  for,  said  he,  “I  want  it,  and  am  sure  it 
will  do  good.” 

David  wrote,  “My  soul,  wait  thou  only  upon 
God.”  That  is  a still  higher  lesson.  To  wait 
upon  God,  and  friends,  is  easier  usually  than 
to  wait  only  upon  Him.  But,  later  in  life,  the 
heart  cries  out  in  despair  as  to  creature  help, 
and  prays, 

“ Change  and  decay  in  all  around  I see, 

Oh  1 Thou  who  changest  not,  abide  with  me.” 

Too  often  we  will  not  give  God  time  to  do 
His  work.  He  does  not  actually  need  it,  but 
He  generally  uses  it.  He  can  as  easily  make 
oaks  of  acorns  in  ten  seconds  as  in  fifty  years, 
but  He  does  not  waste  His  miracles,  nor  hurry 
needlessly.  “Wait  thou  His  time;  the  darkest 
night  shall  shine  as  brightest  day.” 

A lesson  of  very  great  importance  to  learn 
is,  that  the  Christian  life  is  surely  one  of  war- 
fare without,  although  of  peace  within.  Even 
the  Prince  of  peace  was  always  at  war.  A 
friend  spoke  one  day  of  a certain  Christian 
man  who  was  “always  in  hot  water.”  This 
led  me  to  call  his  attention  to  the  fact  that 
such  was  really  the  experience  of  Jesus. 
When  “principle”  rather  than  “policy”  rules 
a life,  opposition  is  sure  to  be  met  with.  “As 
far  as  lieth  in  you” — or  it  is  possible  for  you  to 
do  so — “live  peaceably  with  all  men.”  Im- 
plying the  impossibility  of  doing  so  with  some 
men. 

The  apostle,  however,  says,  “We  wrestle  not 
against  flesh  and  blood” — our  own,  or  that  of 


221 


“tell  them.” 

others — “but  with  principalities  and  powers, 
of  wickedness.”  The  “visible”  foes  are  not 
the  ones  most  to  be  feared  and  grappled  with, 
but  the  “unseen.” 

“Simon,  Satan  hath  desired  you;  but  I have 
prayed  for  you,”  said  Christ  as  He  “lifted  the 
curtain”  and  revealed  the  real  scene  of  conflict 
- — unseen  and  unknown  to  mortal  man. 

Thank  God  that  even  the  desires  of  Satan 
cannot  be  hid  from  the  Captain  of  our  salva- 
tion, who  knows  how,  not  only  to  pray,  but 
also  to  “die  to  save.” 

With  increasing  years  come  a fuller  knowl- 
edge of  three  things: 

1st.  One’s  own  inherent  weakness  and  in- 
ability to  withstand  the  “wiles  of  the  devil." 

2d.  The  subtlety  and  power  of  Satan;  but, 
thank  God, 

3d.  The  greater  power  of  Christ,  who  is 
able  both  to  “deliver”  and  to  "keep.” 

"He  knoweth  hozv  to  deliver  the  godly.” 
“T  am  persuaded  that  He  is  able  to  keep,” 
wrote  Paul. 

The  more  progress  one  makes  in  the  Divine 
life,  the  more  fully  are  the  personality,  pre- 
sence and  power  of  God  felt  and  known;  and 
equally  so,  perhaps,  is  Satan  realized  to  be  no 
myth,  but  a person,  having  great  power,  who 
is  seldom,  if  ever,  absent.  At  times,  it  may  be, 
leaving  one  “for  a season,”  only  it  would  seem 
that  he  may  return  with  increase  of  power  and 
cunning,  even  as  “an  angel  of  light.”  Alas 
for  us  when  he  so  appears,  or  comes  in  like  a 


222 


LIFE  LESSONS  LEARNED. 


“flood,”  did  not  the  Master — yes,  Satan’s 
Master,  too — appear  for  our  deliverance,  as 
when  He  came  “walking  on  the  water”  to  the 
storm-tossed  disciples,  and  said,  “It  is  I;  be 
not  afraid.” 

One  of  the  first  hymns  my  dear  mother 
taught  me,  fifty  years  ago,  when  I was  about 
five  years  of  age,  began,  “Guide  me,  O,  Thou 
great  Jehovah,  pilgrim  through  this  barren 
iand.” 

I am  free  to  say  that  I do  not  think  I un- 
derstood those  lines  at  that  time;  but,  as  the 
years  go  by,  I like  to  remember  them,  and 
especially  the  next  two,  “I  am  ‘weak,’  but 
Thou  art  ‘mighty;’  ‘Hold  me’  with  Thy  power- 
ful hand.” 

What  a difference  between  the  little  child 
“holding  on”  to  one  finger  of  the  parent’s 
hand,  and  the  same  little  hand,  in  realized 
weakness,  placed  in  the  father’s  stronger  one, 
which  clasps  it  firmly!  “Hold  Thou  me  up, 
and  I shall  be  safe.”  No  safety  elsewhere,  or 
otherwise,  all  through  life. 

Of  Moses  it  is  said,  “He  endured,  as  ‘seeing 
Him’  who  is  invisible.”  Surely  this  is  the 
secret  of  all  really  successful  endurance,  to- 
gether with  the  remembrance  of  the  promise, 
“In  due  season  we  shall  reap.” 


223 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  XLVII. 

The  Great  Conflict. 

A good  thing  to  do  at  certain  times  is  to 
“consider  Him”- — Jesus — “that  endured  such 
contradiction  of  sinners  against  Himself.” 
Marvellous  indeed  was  His  patient  endurance, 
and  tremendous  the  opposition  which  assailed 
Him  continually. 

Scarce  was  He  born  in  Bethlehem,  and  an- 
gels, wise  men  and  shepherds  rejoiced  thereat, 
when  the  enemy  of  souls — and  of  bodies,  too 
— caused  Herod  to  send  his  soldiers  to  destroy 
Him  whom  God  had  sent,  so  that  man  might 
not  have  a Saviour. 

But  He  who  knows  what  is  in  man,  also 
knows  what  is  in  Satan,  and  foiled  him  in  his 
dire  purpose. 

Then  came  the  years  of  toil  and  struggle  at 
Nazareth,  the  worst  city  in  that  land.  “Can 
any  good  thing  come  out  of  Nazareth?”  one 
asked  in  amazement.  Yes,  thank  God,  One 
— the  Son  of  God — went  into  that  city  pure 
and  holy,  lived  and  labored  in  it  for  a life  time, 
and  left  it  as  pure  as  on  the  day  He  entered  it, 
but  not  through  any  lack  of  trial  and  tempta- 
tion. 

I t thirty  was  the  Saviour  of  men  baptized 
and  anointed  for  His  work,  but  immediately 
He  passed  through  the  hottest  conflict  with 

224 


THE  GREAT  CONFLICT. 


the  arch-fiend,  Satan.  Starved  almost  to 
death  by  forty  days’  abstinence;  in  the  desert, 
among  wild  beasts,  hounded  by  the  foe  of  God 
and  man,  He  stood  it  all  unscathed. 

How  the  subtlety  of  Satan  is  seen  in  the 
final  three-fold  temptation.  First,  "If  Thou 
be  the  Son  of  God,  command  these  stones  to 
be  made  bread.”  Take  the  law  into  your  own 
hands,  you  see  that  God  has  left  you  to  starve, 
He  cares  not — deliver  yourself.  To  the 
woman,  many  centuries  before,  he  said,  ‘‘Hath 
God  said  ye  may  not  eat  of  the  trees?”  But 
the  woman  corrected  him;  not  “trees,”  but 
“tree,”  only  one.  Christ  ever  preached,  “God 
so  loved.”  Satan  ever  tries  to  prove  the  con- 
trary . 

Second.  “He  taketh  Him  to  a high  moun- 
tain,” and  by  another  assault,  but  in  vain,  does 
he  try  to  excite  ambition. 

Twice  has  Christ  defeated  his  opponent  by 
“It  is  written.”  Very  well,  then,  Satan  will 
meet  Him  on  His  own  ground.  Now  together 
they  wend  their  way;  where  to?  To  the  Holy 
City,  to  the  holiest  place  in  that  city;  more, 
to  the  highest  pinnacle  of  that  temple — the 
temple  of  God,  in  Jerusalem.  And  now  from 
the  very  Word  of  God  Satan  quotes,  to  justify 
his  third  assault.  “If  Thou  be  the  Son  of 
God,  cast  Thyself  down,  for  it  is  written” — 
yes,  truly,  it  is  written — “He  shall  give  His 
angels  charge  concerning  Thee.”  But  it  is 
also  written,  “Thou  shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord 
thy  God.”  Beaten  again,  the  devil  “leaveth 
333 


“tell  them.” 

Him  for  a season.”  Yes,  for  a season;  but 
only  a short  one. 

Returning  to  Nazareth,  again  is  Christ  as- 
sailed by  the  enemy.  Not  now  in  person,  but 
through  men.  “He  stood  up  for  to  read,” 
and  “they  rose  up,  and  thrust  Him  out;”  and 
would  have  cast  Him  over  “the  brow  of  the 
hill,”  and  dashed  Him  to  pieces,  could  they 
have  done  so;  “but  He,  passing  through  their 
midst,  went  His  way.” 

One  day,  when  very  much  tried  by  the  con- 
flict— caught  like  a vessel  between  icebergs — 
on  the  one  hand,  knowledge  of  the  terrible 
needs  of  the  suffering  millions  in  heathen 
lands  by  lack  of  medical  aid,  as  also  of  the 
Gospel;  and,  on  the  other,  hundreds  of  young 
men  and  women  applying  to  me  for  help  and 
training  to  become  fitted  to  go  to  their  aid, 
I was  led  to  study  the  Saviour  of  men,  and 
His  conflict  with  Satan,  as  never  before.  I 
observed  and  deplored  the  fact  that,  while 
there  were  numerous  theological  seminaries 
to  prepare  men  to  “preach,”  there  was  not 
in  existence  for  any,  or  for  all  of  the  denomi- 
nations together,  a single  Christian  institution 
to  teach  men  to  heal  the  sick.  And  yet  the 
Saviour  “healed  all”  who  came  to  Him,  both 
in  body  and  soul;  and  in  sending  out,  first 
twelve,  and  then  seventy,  He  gave  to  each  the 
two-fold  command  to  “preach”  and  to  “heal.” 


r 


226 


. Society  Students,  1892 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  XLVIII. 

What  Satan  Hates. 

After  reading  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  one 
day,  I noted  that,  wonderful  as  that  sermon 
was,  and  preached  by  the  Prince  of  preachers, 
not  a sign  of  opposition  was  evoked  thereby, 
either  of  act  or  word,  and  I wondered  at  this 
marked  exception.  But  I read  on,  and  found 
that  after  preaching  thus,  Jesus  “came  down 
the  mount,”  and  proceeded  to  put  into  prac- 
tice what  He  had  taught. 

The  first  one  to  meet  Him  was  “a  man  full 
of  leprosy,”  and  he  was  healed.  Others  fol- 
lowed, until  we  read  in  verse  sixteen,  of  chap- 
ter eight,  of  the  Gospel  by  Matthew,  “He  cast 
out  the  spirits  with  His  word,  and  healed  all 
that  were  sick.” 

In  the  thirty-third  verse  of  the  next  chapter, 
“The  multitudes  marvelled,  saying,  ‘It  was 
never  so  seen  in  Israel.’  ” 

Ah,  things  have  gone  too  far  now!  Why, 
the  people  are  captivated  by  His  wonderful 
power.  Something  must  be  done,  and  war  is 
declared.  Satan  puts  blasphemous  thoughts 
into  the  hearts  of  the  leaders  of  God’s  chosen 
people,  and  blasphemous  words  come  from 
their  lips,  “He  casteth  out  devils  through  the 
prince  of  the  devils.”  Again  they  make  the 
charge  in  chapter  xii:  24. 

228 


WHAT  SATAN  HATES. 


Some  one  has  said,  “If  you  don’t  let  God 
use  you,  the  devil  soon  will.”  These  leaders, 
who  should  have  welcomed  and  aided  the  Son 
of  God  from  heaven,  being  blinded  by  preju- 
dice and  bigotry,  became  the  tools  of  Satan 
and  Christ’s  bitterest  foes.  To  them  did 
Herod  turn  for  information  as  to  “where 
Christ  should  be  born,”  when  the  wise  men 
sought  it  from  him.  They  soon  responded, 
readily  quoting  from  the  Scriptures. 

The  wise  men  believed  and  worshipped ; 
Herod  believed,  and  “sought  His  life;”  but 
they  who  alone  possessed  the  knowledge  and 
gave  it  to  others,  did  not  believe,  and  did  not 
go  to  welcome  or  to  worship  Him  whom  God 
had  given  and  sent! 

Marvellous  indeed,  almost  past  belief!  But, 
having  rejected  God  and  His  Son,  Satan  urges 
them  on,  and  uses  them  more  and  more,  until 
they,  not  only  do  not  believe  at  the  raising  of 
Lazarus,  who  had  been  “dead  four  days,” 
but  “they  took  counsel”  how  they  might  not 
only  put  Christ  to  death,  but  “Lazarus  also,” 
because  many  did  believe,  and  but  a short 
time  after  they  killed  the  Prince  of  life. 

To-day  in  heathen  lands,  amid  darkness, 
degradation,  sin  and  suffering,  when  mission- 
aries relieve  pain,  cure  disease  and  save  life, 
they  are  looked  upon  by  the  people  as  verit- 
able messengers  from  heaven,  a heaven  un- 
heard of  before,  perhaps,  but  even  felt  now. 

After  Dr.  Allen  saved  the  life  of  the  Korean 
prince,  when  dying  from  hemorrhage  through 
229 


“tell  them.” 

a wound,  by  ligating  the  bleeding  arteries  in 
the  presence  of  a dozen  helpless  Korean  sur- 
geons, (?)  who  had  poured  molten  wax  into 
the  wound  to  no  purpose,  the  prince  said, 
“Doctor,  my  people  say,  you  did  not  come 
from  America,  you  came  from  heaven.” 

“Heal  the  sick  that  are  therein,  and  say  unto 
them,  'The  kingdom  of  God  is  conre  nigh  unto 
you.'  ” 

Two  difficulties  beset  those  who  thus  go  out 
to  heal  and  to  preach.  One,  the  multitudes 
overwhelm  them,  clamoring  for  relief;  the 
other  that,  after  obtaining  it,  the  people  often 
fall  down  to  worship  their  deliverer.  Will 
they  listen  to  a message  about  the  great  Phy- 
sician? Yes,  indeed,  and  gladly  believe  it. 
And  thousands  to-day  arc  rejoicing  because 
of  their  having  dene  so.  But  by  so  much  as 
success  attends  such  ministry  will  Satan  be 
stirred  to  opposition;  and,  while  “nothing  is 
too  hard”  for  God  to  do,  nothing  is  too  mean 
and  despicable  for  Satan  to  do  in  opposition 
to  a cause  which,  following  the  example  and 
teaching  of  Christ,  seeks  to  provide  healing 
for  the  bodies  and  also  the  souls  of  perishing 
men. 

Perhaps  nowhere  has  the  battle  between  the 
messengers  of  God  and  the  servants  of  Satan 
been  more  clearly  manifest  than  in  the  history 
of  missions  in  Madagascar.  At  first  there 
were  Gospel  triumphs  most  wonderful.  Then 
the  flame  of  persecution  rose,  and  thousands 
were  dashed  to  pieces  over  precipices.  Again 
230 


WHAT  SATAN  HATES. 

the  Gospel  triumphed,  especially  through  the 
medical  skill  of  such  men  as  Dr.  Davidson. 

A fine  hospital  was  built  a few  years  since, 
and  opened  by  the  Queen  in  person,  and  many 
in  that  island  country  rejoiced  with  those  in 
the  home-land. 

Another  power  recently  invaded  the  coun- 
try, and  confiscated  the  property  of  the  Prot- 
estant missionaries  through  Jesuitical  intrigue. 

Yet  once  again,  in  1897,  the  French  Protes- 
tant Society  has  sent  thirty  men  and  women 
to  redeem  the  cause  of  Christ  from  these 
marauders,  and  two  have  already  been  mur- 
dered. Most  of  the  massacres  in  China  have 
been  due  to  the  fiend-like  opposition  kindled 
in  the  bosoms  of  some,  who,  unable  to  dispute 
the  fact  of  the  “wonderful  healing”  performed 
by  the  medical  missionaries,  started  lying  slan- 
ders that  cures  were  only  made  by  the  use  of 
portions  of  the  human  body,  to  obtain  which 
children  and  others  were  kidnapped  and  killed. 
Truly  the  “Father  of  Lies”  is  a great  inventor. 
Such  opposition  is  due  simply  to  their  being 
“blinded  by  Satan,”  who  would  lead  them  to 
murder  their  best  friends,  supposing  them  to 
be  their  worst  enemies.  So  did  he  succeed  in 
killing  the  very  Son  of  God,  who  “went  about 
doing  good.” 

“For  this  purpose  was  the  Son  of  God  mani- 
fested, that  He  might  destroy  the  works  of  the 
devil.”  Hence  Satan  sought  to  oppose,  ob- 
struct and  destroy  Him:  and  all  who  live  as 
Christ  did,  preaching  by  act,  no  less  than 


“tell  them.” 

word,  are  liable  to  meet  a similar  fate.  “If 
they  have  persecuted  Me,  they  will  persecute 
you.”  “Behold,  I send  you  forth  as  lambs 
among  wolves.”  But  He  who  said  “Go,”  also 
said  “Lo,  I am  with  you  alway.” 

Therein  alone  lies  our  hope  of  ultimate  suc- 
cess; meantime  be  it  ours  to  “watch  and  pray,” 
to  “labor  and  wait,”  assured  of  final  victory 
through  Him  who  rose  triumphant  over  death 
and  the  grave,  over  Satan  and  sin. 


232 


THE  RETROSPECT THANKSGIVING. 


Chapter  XLIX. 

The  Retrospect — Thanksgiving. 

In  “looking  backward”  over  the  scenes  and 
experiences  narrated  herein,  and  those  which 
for  various  reasons  remain  untold,  my  heart 
is  stirred  with  gratitude  to  our  Father  in 
heaven,  and  to  the  many  friends  of  earth. 

The  words  of  David  well  befit  heart  and  lip, 
“Bless  the  Lord,  oh,  my  soul,  and  forget  not 
all  His  benefits. 

“Who  forgiveth  all  thine  iniquities; 

“Who  redeemeth  thy  life  from  destruction; 

“Who  crowneth  thee  with  loving  kindness 
and  tender  mercies.” 

How  true  of  the  writer’s  experience!  lead- 
ing to  songs  of  praise  as  memory  recounts  His 
doings,  in  the  language  of  the  old  hymn, 

“ When  all  Thy  mercies,  0 my  God, 

My  rising  soul  surveys, 

Transported  with  the  view,  I’m  lost 
In  wonder,  love  and  praise.” 

And  leading  also  to  prayer, 

Oh,  to  grace,  how'  great  a debtor, 

Daily  I'm  constrained  to  be; 

Let  Thy  goodness,  like  a fetter, 

Bind  my  wandering  heart  to  Thee.” 

Often  have  I felt  the  force  of  the  following- 
words,  and  record  them  here  as  a heartfelt 
tribute : 


“tell  them.” 

“ Weak  is  the  effort  of  my  heart, 

And  cold  my  warmest  thought, 

But  when  I see  Thee  as  Thou  art, 

I’ll  praise  Thee  as  I ought. 

“ Till  then  I would  Thy  love  proclaim 
With  every  fleeting  breath; 

So  shall  the  music  of  Thy  name 
Refresh  my  soul  in  death.” 

But,  as  one  has  said,  “Thebestthanks-giT/ing 
is  ihanks-living.”  So  may  the  life,  as  well  as 
lip,  testify  the  gratitude  of  the  heart  within. 

A ery  noticeable  is  the  Saviour’s  apprecia- 
tion of  any  “deed  of  kindness  done”  in  His 
name,  or  to  one  of  His,  even  to  the  “cup  of 
cold  water.” 

To-day  we  can  only  minister  to  Him 
through  others,  His  needy  children;  but  in  so 
doing,  He  views  and  values  such  ministry  as 
actually  done  to  Himself.  Many  are  the  dear 
friends  who  “showed  kindness,’  first  to  a poor 
boy,  and  then  to  a struggling  man,  trying  to 
serve  his  God  by  ministering  to  his  fellows. 

Of  the  friends  of  boyhood,  scarce  one  re- 
mains, at  least,  as  known  to  me.  Yes,  one 
such,  a playmate  of  childhood,  comes  to  mind, 
whose  consistent  Christian  devotion  impressed 
me  deeply  in  1863.  She  is  still  living  in  Chel- 
tenham, England,  engaged  in  the  work  of 
“rescuing  the  perishing,  and  lifting  the  fallen.” 

Miss  Wall,  in  the  year  named,  refused  to 
accompany  me  to  a theatre,  with  her  mother; 
and  was  the  first  to  speak  a “friendly  word” 
of  rebuke  in  those  days.  And  to-day  memory 
234 


THE  RETROSPECT — THANKSGIVING. 


recalls  the  incident  of  thirty-five  years  ago  in 
grateful  remembrance. 

To  the  family  who  first  welcomed  me  as  a 
fellow  Christian,  joined  me  in  the  work  I 
sought  to  do,  and  became  the  means  of  intro- 
duction to  my  partner  in  life  for  twenty-one 
years,  I record  my  gratitude. 

The  “Missions  to  Seamen”  Society  was  the 
instrumentality,  through  their  missionary, 
which  led  to  my  knowledge  of  that  family,  and 
which  otherwise  was  a means  of  help  in  those 
days. 

No  one  can  fully  appreciate  the  value  of  a 
Christian  friend,  and  the  reception  from  such 
of  “white  winged  messengers”  of  cheer  and 
encouragement,  as  a sailor,  isolated  on  board 
ship  in  a foreign  land. 

From  1868  to  1870,  I enjoyed  this  privilege 
at  the  hands  of  my  dear  friend,  Miss  Weston, 
who  was  pleased  to  style  me  in  those  davs  her 
“Recruiting  Sergeant;”  not  only  because  I 
had  been  the  means  in  God’s  hands  of  recruit- 
ing her,  but  because  I was  always  “on  the 
lookout”  for  more  candidates  for  her  friend- 
ship. Since  1868  the  whole  navy  has  changed. 

It  is  strange  to  think  that  not  a single  man 
or  boy  serving  in  1868  is  probably  now  in  the 
naval  service. 

Some  of  the  officers  remain,  but  of  these 
very  few,  but  Miss  Weston  is  still  at  the  helm 
of  the  Gospel  and  Temperance  cause  in  the 
British  navy,  and  now  of  the  United  States 


“tell  them.” 


navy  also.  May  she  long  remain  at  her  God- 
given  post  of  duty. 

To  all  the  dear  friends  in  Liverpool — some 
among  the  well-to-do,  others  of  the  struggling 
working  class,  I desire  to  express  my  grati- 
tude. Cne  picture  only  is  herein  given  of  a 
friend  in  that  city,  but  that  one,  Mr.  B.  F. 
Babcock,  is  so  widely  appreciated  for  his  many 
years  of  devotion  to  the  medical  mission,  and 
to  the  city  mission,  that  others  will  accept  him 
as  their  representative  also.  Thank  God  for 
all  such  men.  Would  that  we  had  many  more. 

With  heartfelt  gratitude  would  I record  the 
friendship  shown  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia, 
wherein,  in  the  earlier  years,  not  less  in  later 
ones,  was  extended  to  us  much  of  practical 
as  also  prayerful  sympathy.  That  city  is  very 
dear  to  my  heart  because  of  those  early  and 
hard  struggles,  but  none  the  less  so,  because 
of  later  friendships  formed  there.  A noble 
band  of  ladies,  yes,  two  bands  now,  meet  each 
month  as  auxiliaries  of  the  I.  M.  M.  Society, 
and  together  send  several  hundreds  of  dollars 
to  aid  our  struggling  students  in  New  York. 

To  one  and  all  of  these  dear  friends  I record 
my  indebtedness  and  gratitude  for  friendly  co- 
operation in  the  cause  of  medical  missions. 
Brotherly  love  certainly  dwells  there. 

My  dear  old  friend,  Mr.  Jones,  is  still  with 
me  in  the  work  in  New  York,  the  only  one 
remaining  of  the  fifteen  men  who  joined  me  in 
1 88 1.  Drs.  Sabine,  Post,  Agnew  and  Learn- 
ing, and  the  Revs.  Drs.  Wm.  M.  Taylor, 
236 


THE  RETROSPECT — THANKSGIVING. 


Howard  Crosby,  C.  F.  Deems,  W.  R.  Wil- 
liams, Arthus  Brooks,  and  Bishop  William 
Harris,  have  all  gone  to  their  home  and  re- 
ward. Also  some  of  the  devoted  women  who 
helped  in  the  early  days  of  straggle,  Mrs.  At- 
terbnry,  Mrs.  Crowell,  Mrs.  Lefler,  Mrs.  Tif- 
fany, Mrs.  Ezra  Hoyt,  and  Miss  Phoebe 
Magie,  whose  names  are  not  only  “written  in 
heaven,”  but  who  dwell  there  now. 

The  great  apostle  Paid  took  particular  pains 
to  mention  some  of  “thosewomenwho  labored 
with  me  in  the  Gospel,”  and  to  speak  of  some 
who  were  “not  ashamed  of  my  chain,”  as 
Onesiphorus. 

In  these  days  iron  fetters  may  not,  do  not, 
bind  our  feet,  or  chains  our  wrists;  but  a chain 
of  circumstances  oft  surround,  and  imprison 
us,  putting  our  fidelity,  and  that  of  professed 
friends,  to  a severe  test. 

At  such  times  how  precious  is  the  friendship 
of  a true  man  or  woman,  who  does  not  stand 
on  the  bank  to  watch  you  drown,  or  wonder 
if  you  can  swim  to  shore,  but  who,  with  out- 
stretched, helping  hand,  stands  by  you,  and 
makes  it  impossible  for  you  to  “go  down,”  or 
fail  in  effort  for  others. 

In  1887,  after  losing  my  devoted  wife,  two 
noble  women,  who  had  already  evinced  their 
interest  in  the  cause,  came  forward  and  inau- 
gurated the  Woman’s  Branch  of  the  I.  M.  M. 
Society,  Mrs.  Elias  J.  Herrick,  and  Mrs. 
Stephen  Smith,  wife  of  a veteran  physician  and 


237 


“teli.  them.” 

teacher,  who  for  the  past  seven  years  has  been 
President  of  our  Society. 

Through  ill  health,  the  last  named  lady  has 
recently  had  to  withdraw  from  the  work,  but 
Mrs.  Herrick  has  nobly  “stood  by  the  ship” 
in  all  weathers.  Securing  Mrs.  Margaret 
Bottome  as  President,  many  other  ladies 
joined,  and  some  forty  devoted  women  now 
form  this  branch.  Through  the  influence  and 
efforts  of  Mrs.  Herrick,  the  Merion  and  New- 
port Auxiliaries  of  the  Society  were  formed, 
and  the  Philadelphia  Auxiliary  owes  its  exist- 
ence to  her,  inasmuch  as  it  is  an  outgrowth 
of  that  of  “Pennsylvania,”  meeting  at  Merion. 

Perhaps  nothing  is  of  greater  interest  to  a 
child  than  to  watch  the  growth  and  develop- 
ment of  a seedling,  which,  given  to  it  by  a lov- 
ing parent,  is  planted,  watered,  cared  for  and 
watched  over  by  the  child.  IVhat  grander 
work  than  to  plant  “something  that  will 
grow,”  whether  in  the  earth,  in  the  heart  of 
man,  or  on  the  earth  for  the  benefit  of  man. 

Although  dependent  upon  sunshine  and 
rain,  there  is  a part  for  man  to  do  in  tilling 
the  ground  and  sowing  the  seed. 

The  parable  of  Christ  regarding  sowing  and 
reaping,  and  gathering  of  fruit  into  harvest  are 
full  of  instruction. 

“Didst  not  thou  sow  good  seed  in  thy  field? 
From  whence  are  the  tares?”  How  the  re- 
sponse oftentimes  applies  to  Christian  effort 
in  explanation  of  non-success.  “An  enemy 
hath  done  this.” 


THE  RETROSPECT THANKSGIVING. 

But,  busy  and  malignant  as  the  enemy  is, 
yet  “in  due  season  we  shall  reap;”  thank  God 
for  this  assurance. 

What  of  the  harvest  to  date,  and  what  of 
of  the  future? 

The  future,  all  unknown,  we  must  leave 
until  time  shall  make  it  to-day.  But,  review- 
ing the  years  gone  by,  there  is  encouragement 
and  satisfaction  in  the  thought  that  “some- 
thing has  been  done.”  To  think  of  one  hun- 
dred men  and  women  daily  surrounded  by  the 
sin-sick  and  suffering  in  India,  China,  Africa, 
Persia,  Syria,  Siam,  Burmah,  Ceylon,  and 
other  isles  of  the  sea,  to  whom  they  not  only 
preach  the  Gospel  of  words,  but  of  skillful, 
kindly  act  also,  is  full  reward  for  much  labor. 

Several  of  these  workers,  who  “came  to 
go” — came  to  New  York  to  go  to  these  dark 
lands — attend  two  hundred  patients  in  a day. 
Allowing  one  hundred  a day  to  each  of  the 
one  hundred  now  in  the  field,  gives  a total 
of  ten  thousand  A day  relieved  of  bodily  suf- 
fering, and  pointed  to  the  great  Physician  for 
healing  of  the  soul.  “But  what  are  they 
among  so  many?”  may  well  be  asked. 

Still  we  will,  and  do,  thank  God  for  so  much 
done,  and  look  to  Him,  in  answer  to  earnest 
prayer,  to  “send  forth  more  laborers  into  His 
harvest,”  by  revealing  to  those  who  should 
“go,”  or  “give,”  their  personal  responsibility 
to  do  one  or  both  as  He  who  died  to  save 
them,  and  all  men,  shall  direct. 


239 


“tell  them.” 

Who  has  yet  answered  the  questions  of  the 
great  missionary  apostle? 

“How  shall  they  call  on  Him  in  whom  they 
have  not  believed?” 

“How  shall  they  believe  in  Him  of  whom 
they  have  not  heard?” 

“How  shall  they  hear  without  a preacher?” 
and 

“How  shall  one  preach  except  he  be  sent?” 
Romans  x:  14. 

Surely,  there  is  a sending  by  men — by  the 
gift  of  the  means — as  well  as  a sending  by 
God. 

Does  some  one  ask,  “How  shall  they  preach 
when  they  are  sent?”  Even  as  Christ  and  His 
disciples  did,  by  act  of  healing  and  help,  no 
less  than  by  word  of  truth. 

No  greater  or  grander  work  can  be  given 
man  to  do  on  earth,  surely,  than  to  relieve  suf- 
fering bodies  and  save  sin-sick  souls.  Such 
is  the  honor  put  upon  the  writer,  and  daily  in 
the  slums  of  New  York  is  he  so  engaged, 
while  seeking  to  aid  and  train  others  to  “go 
and  do  likewise”  in  other  lands. 

Not  other  work  of  any  sort  does  he  desire, 
but  more  means  to  do  more  of  this  same  kind 
he  would  gladly  welcome,  and  is  praying  for, 
believing  that,  in  His  own  good  time  and  way, 
He,  who  caused  water  to  burst  from  flinty 
rock  for  a thirsty  people,  will  touch  hearts  into 
loving  sympathy.  And  the  work  will  be  done. 


240 


One  of  my  dearest  friends  in  America  was  the  late  Rev. 
Adoniram  Judson  Gordon,  D.  D. , of  Boston,  whose  las 
letter  to  me  is  here  reproduced.  It  “ speaks  for  itself,”  or, 
rather,  for  him  who  wrote  it. 


“tell  them.” 


Chapter  L. 

“What  Wilt  Thou?” 

It  is  the  Lord  of  glory  who  speaks.  Before 
Him  stands  a poor  blind  beggar;  sightless, 
friendless,  helpless;  clad  in  rags,  his  body 
trembling  with  hopeful  expectancy.  “What 
wilt  thou  that  I should  do  unto  thee?”  Oh, 
wonderful  question.  Prompted  by  Divine 
pity,  the  Son  of  God  places  Himself  at  the  dis- 
posal of  a beggar,  who  at  once  gets  what  he 
seeks — his  sight.  The  blind  man  called,  and 
Christ  heard  and  answered  him. 

"What  wilt  thou?”  The  order  is  reversed. 
It  is  a blind  man  who  speaks  now  to  this  same 
Son  of  God.  Blinded  by  “a  light  above  the 
brightness  of  the  sun,”  he  has  heard  a voice 
calling  him,  “Saul,  Saul,  why  persecutest  thou 
Me?”  and  now  he  asks  in  wonder  and  sub- 
mission, “Lord,  what  wilt  Thou  have  me  to 
do?”  To  the  one  sight  has  been  given,  from 
the  other  it  has  been  taken.  To  the  first 
Christ  surrendered,  “What  wilt  thou?”  the 
second  surrenders  to  Christ,  “What  wilt 
Thou?” 

Fitting  representatives  of  the  whole  race, 
surely.  The  suffering  and  the  needy  on  the 
one  hand,  to  whom  in  pity  the  “Son  of  man 
came  to  minister:”  on  the  other,  the  strong, 
impulsive  man,  determined  to  do,  as  he  had 
242 


“wit AT  WILT  THOU?” 

already  done,  persecute  the  people  of  God, 
taking  advantage  of  the  weak  and  helpless, 
and  yet  as  in  a moment  changed  into  the 
world’s  greatest  Christian  hero  and  martyr. 

Sad  that  such  an  experience  should  be  nec- 
essary to  bring  a man  in  humble  submission 
to  his  God,  and  lead  to  full  surrender  for  ser- 
vice, but  if  it  must  be,  the  price  paid  is  not 
great.  To-day  it  seems  to  be  as  true  as  then. 
Men  often  will  not  serve  their  God,  and  think 
of  and  help  their  needy  fellows,  without  some 
terrible  calamity  and  loss.  “If  thou  knewest 
the  gift  of  God,  thou  wouldst  have  asked,  and 
He  would  have  given.”  What  an  A B C 
statement  of  the  need  of  the  world. 

If  they  knew,  they  would  ask,  I would  give. 
“Wilt  thou  be  made  whole?”  “Sir,  I have  no 
man  to  put  me  in.”  No  man  to  put  him  in 
the  way  of  healing  for  his  body,  although  the 
pool  was  there  provided  ; it  did  not  reach  him 
t — he  could  not  reach  it — and  no  man — awful 
statement — no  man — of  all  the  men  in  those 
parts,  to  put  him  in.  Thousands  enjoying  full 
health  of  body,  while  he  had  lain  afflicted  for 
thirty-eight  years,  because  “no  man”  cared 
enough  to  help  him.  It  seems  scarcely  cred- 
ible, and  yet  matters  were  even  worse  with 
Bartimeus,  for  when  he  cried,  “Have  mercy 
on  me,”  they  “ commanded  him  to  hold  his 
peace,”  instead  of  taking  him  by  the  hand  and 
leading  Him  to  Jesus. 

Did  the  Saviour  not  answer  his  cry  at  first, 
to  give  those  near  to  him  an  opportunity  to 

243 


“tell  them.’* 

bring  him?  Perhaps  so,  for  we  read  “Jesus 
stood  still,  and  commanded  him  to  be  brought.” 
Some  people  seem  to  want  a “special  call”  or 
command,  when  surely  the  crying  need  itself 
should  be  sufficient  voice. 

“Go  thou,  and  do  likewise,”  was  the  fitting 
comment  of  the  Son  of  God  upon  the  Good 
Samaritan.  Officials  who  saw  the  man  in  his 
need,  “passed  by,”  when  they  should  have 
helped,  by  virtue  of  their  sacred  office,  and  so 
disgraced  their  office.  The  Samaritan,  as  he 
journeyed — saw  him — had  compassion — went 
to  him — bound  his  wounds — -set  him  on  his 
beast — brought  him  to  an  inn — took  care  of 
him — and  said,  “Take  care  of  him — I will 
repay.” 

Why  this  man  must  surely  have  believed  in 
the  Book  of  Acts. 

But  I forbear,  except  to  press  home  the 
truths  contained  in  these  references  upon  the 
heart  of  the  reader,  who  has  journeyed  with 
me  along  the  story  of  fifty  years,  in  which  I 
have  freely  spoken,  as  "heart  to  heart,”  I 
trust. 

“What  wilt  thou?”  The  words  came  to  me 
last  night,  as  I write  about  them  to-day,  just 
as  a question  from  God  to  my  soul,  and  I could 
but  reply,  “Lord,  Thou  knowest — what  wilt 
Thou?”  ' 

“Who  will  have  all  men  come  to  a knowl- 
edge of  the  truth.”  Yes,  Lord,  that  must  be 
Thy  will  indeed;  “why  will  ye  die?”  is  the 
question;  “I  have  found  a ransom.”  And  the 

244 


“what  wilt  thou?” 


pitying  voice  of  Jesus  is  heard  pleading,  “How 
often  would  I have  gathered — but  ye  would 
not.”  And  it  seems  to  have  a wider  meaning. 
“How  often  would  I have  gathered,”  gathered 
in  the  souls  that  are  perishing,  to  whom  I sent 
you,  saying,  “Preach  the  Gospel  to  every  crea- 
ture,” and  “ye  would  not”give  or  go. 

Will  there  some  day  be  a reckoning?  Christ 
certainly  so  taught. 

And  then  the  mind  reverted  back  to  the 
question,  “What  wilt  thou?”  and  the  reply 
framed  itself.  Lord,  if  Thou  wilt,  stir  up  the 
hearts  of  Thy  blood-bought  people  to  sym- 
pathy for  their  suffering  fellow  men  and 
women,  open  their  eyes,  as  Thou  didst  those 
of  Elisha’s  servant — yea,  open  our  eyes,  too — - 
that  we  may  see  the  unseen,  or  be  so  made  to 
realize  its  reality,  that  we  may  be  more  anx- 
ious to  lay  up  “treasures  in  heaven”  than  on 
the  earth,  and  more  anxious  to  serve  and  help 
others  than  to  be  served  ourselves.  And  give 
to  all 

“A  heart  in  every  thought  renewed, 

And  filled  with  love  divine , 

Perfect  and  right,  and  pure  and  good, 

A copy,  Lord,  of  Thine.” 

Then  truly  all  will  be  easy.  To  tell  only  of 
the  need  will  be  enough  to  call  forth  all 
needed  help.  Amen  and  Amen. 

It  remains  now  but  to  tell  of  the  need,  and 
of  plans  to  meet  it,  in  which  I trust  the  reader 
will  also  be  interested,  at  least,  and  desire  to 
have  some  share,  which  all  are  welcome  to 
245 


“tele  them/’ 


do.  In  doing  this  I must  go  back  a dozen 
years  at  first,  to  1885,  when  we  moved  into 
1 18  East  Forty-fifth  Street. 

On  June  14th,  1885,  our  dear  boy,  Ernest, 
was  taken  from  us,  only  six  weeks  after 
“moving  in”  to  118. 

He  was  born  in  1872,  crossed  the  Atlantic 
with  us,  and  shared  in  all  our  trials  until  his 
death.  A bright  little  fellow,  but  with  frail 
body — the  weak  one  of  the  flock — the  lack  of 
many  things  told  upon  him  more  than  upon 
the  others. 

One  Saturday  afternoon  his  brother,  Harry, 
received  an  extra  dollar  from  his  employers 
for  extra  work,  and  with  much  joy  placed  the 
bright  dollar  in  his  hand,  saying,  “Here  you 
are,  Ernie,  this  will  get  you  something  nice,” 
and  the  little  fellow  was  very  much  pleased. 

For  various  reasons  the  dollar  wras  not 
changed,  but  carefully  nursed,  as  it  were,  by 
its  owner.  The  following  evening,  Sunday, 
the  tired  little  body,  and  spirit  too,  were  “at 
rest.” 

The  dollar  remained  for  very  nearly  three 
years  unchanged,  unused.  Shortly  before  his 
dear  mother  followed  him  in  November,  1887. 
it  was  decided  to  make  “Ernie’s  last  dollar” 
the  “first  dollar”  of  our  future  Medical  Mis- 
sionary College,  which  we  hope  may  now  soon 
be  consummated. 

There  have  been  added  to  “Ernie’s  last  dol- 
lar” several  single  dollars,  one  from  “A  poor 
widow,”  one  from  a boy,  “The  first  dollar”  he 
246 


“what  wilt  thou?” 


ever  earned.  Others  in  the  mission  field 
have  sent  gifts  from  five  dollars  to  one  hun- 
dred dollars,  and  some  at  home  have  given 
and  promised,  so  that  not  long  since  over  five 
thousand  dollars  were  in  hand. 

When  this  is  multiplied  by  ten,  making  fifty 
thousand  dollars,  we  can  obtain  our  charter 
from  the  legal  authorities,  and  found  our  col- 
lege, and  for  this  we  pray  and  labor,  and  plan 
and  wait. 

The  financial  crises  of  the  past  five  years 
have  played  sad  havoc  with  all  missionary  and 
charitable  societies,  most  of  them  being  deeply 
in  debt,  or  just  emerging  therefrom. 

Just  as  soon,  however,  as  Christian  hearts 
are  made  to  feel  the  great  need  that  exists  for 
such  an  institution  for  many  valid,  urgent 
reasons,  and  to  realize  the  immense  value  of 
the  agency  of  medical  missions,  they  will 
surely  give  to  this  enterprise,  whose  claims 
and  plans  are  fully  set  forth  in  a little  pamphlet 
to  be  had  for  the  asking,  bearing  the  title, 
“Shall  it  be  in  vain?” 

In  1894,  I issued  a little  book,  “Murdered 
Millions,”  the  fifth  edition  being  issued  in 
1897.  The  veteran  preacher,  Dr.  Cuyler, 
warmly  endorsed  it  in  his  “Introduction,”  and 
an  edition  in  Great  Britain,  and  one  in  Canada, 
have  also  been  published.  Many  letters  of 
encouragement  have  been  received  from  those 
whose  hearts  have  been  stirred  to  give  them- 
selves. Would  that  others  who  possess  much 
of  wealth,  would  provide  what  we  now  need 
247 


“tell  them.” 

to  accept  and  train  the  scores,  yes,  hundreds, 
of  noble  young  men  and  women  applying  for 
admission  and  aid. 

“What  wilt  thou?”  Shall  the  question  be 
asked  of  the  reader?  No;  rather  may  he  or 
she  ask  of  God,  “Lord,  what  wilt  Thou  have 
me  to  do?”  and  then  act  upon  the  counsel  of 
a noble  woman, 

“Whatsoever  He  saith  unto  you,  do  it.” 

Common  sense,  no  less  than  actual  expe- 
rience, dictates  that  those  who  go  as  mission- 
aries to  foreign  lands  should  be  instructed  in 
all  that  it  is  possible  for  them  to  know  con- 
cerning the  people — their  language,  religion, 
diseases,  customs  and  needs — before  they  go 
out;  but,  strange  to  say,  up  to  the  present  time 
there  is  no  institution  in  the  world  which  fully 
provides  for  this. 

A MISSIONARY  UNIVERSITY 

is  an  imperative  need  at  the  present  time,  and 
I trust  will  be  a reality  by  the  time  the  next 
great  missionary  gathering  is  held.  The  last 
one  met  in  London  in  1888,  the  next  one  is 
to  be  held  in  New  York  in  April,  1900.  The 
proposed  Medical  Missionary  College  will 
likely  become  the  nucleus  of  the  larger  in- 
stitution, and  later  be  The  Medical  Department 
of  the  Missionary  University. 

Time  will  tell,  and  time  will  show,  how 
God  will  lead,  and  His  people  follow. 
in  meeting  this  crying  need. 

How  better  can  this  little  volume,  which 
248 


“what  wilt  thou?” 


has  aimed  to  “Tell  them,”  not  only  of 
“ great  things  done ” by  our  Father  in  Heaven, 
and  by  friends  on  earth,  but  also  of  the  need 
for  “greater  things  than  these”  being  done — be 
concluded  than  with  the  prayer, 

“Thy  kingdom  come;  Thy  will  be  done 

on  earth,  as  in  heaven.”  Amen. 


T^AVING  thus  concluded  his  life-story,  as  far  as  lived 
1 ~ and  written,  the  author  desires  to  “ introduce”  to  the 
reader,  by  name,  those  friends  who,  at  the  present 
time,  are  co-operating  with  him  in  this  work  of  Medical 
Missions — the  grandest  cause  on  earth — that  of  seeking  to 
Heal  the  Sick  and  Preach  the  Gospel. 

The  three  Auxiliaries  named  have  over  one  hundred 
members,  so  that,  with  the  members  of  the  Woman’s  Branch, 
there  are  fully  one  hundred  and  fifty  noble  women  thus 
banded  together.  In  addition  are  the  men  who  have  been 
led  to  put  their  hands  to  this  work.  What  a noble  army  ! 
May  their  numbers  increase  ! 

For  the  past  we  may  well  ask,  “What  hath  God 
wrought  ?’  ’ 

For  the  future,  we  hear  Him  say,  “ Thou  shall  see  greater 
things .” 


249 


The  International  Medical  Missionary  Society, 

New  York  City. 


AUXILIARIES: — No.  i,  Pennsylvania,  Merion,  Pa. 

No.  2,  Newport,  R.  I. 

No.  3,  Philadelphia,  Pa 
BASIS — Unitedly  Evangelical. 

OBJECT — To  aid  and  train  intending  Medical  Missionaries  of  all 
Evangelical  Denominations,  for  service  at  home 
and  abroad. 


Officers  of  thv  Society. 

President,  Stephen  Smith,  M.D.,  LL.D. 

Vice-President,  Robert  E.  Pattison,  Philadelphia. 

Medical  Director,  George  D.  Dowkontt,  M.D. 
Treasurer,  Edward  A.  Jones. 

Secretary,  J.  Edward  Giles,  M.D. 

Cor.  Secretary,  G.  Harry  Dowkontt,  M.D. 


Board  of  Trustees , 


Rev.  S.  L.  Baldwin.  D.D. 
Rev.  Henry  N.  Cobb,  D.D. 
Rev.  C.  C.  Creegan,  D.D. 
Rev.  Charles  R.  Erdman. 
Rev.  Albert  B.  King, 

Rev.  Rhoades,  D.D. 

Rev.  W.  T.  Sabine,  D.D. 
Rev.  Sylvanus  Stall,  D.D. 


George  D.  Dowkontt,  M.D. 
G.  Harry  Dowkontt,  M.D. 
J.  Edward  Giles,  M.D. 
Edward  A.  Jones. 

Charles  T.  Kilborne. 
Robert  E.  Pattison. 
Stephen  Smith,  M.D.,  LL.D. 
William  H.  Youngs. 


Officers  of  the  Board  of  Trustees , 

Chairman,  Stephen  Smith,  M.D.,  LL  D. 

Secretary,  Geo.  D.  Dowkontt,  M.D. 

Treasurer,  Charles  T.  Kilborne. 


The  Board  of  Trustees,  four  of  whose  members  are  Secre- 
taries of  large  Mission  Boards,  have  under  their  especial 
consideration  and  care  at  this  time  (January,  1898)  the  fur- 
therance of  the  project  to  establish  a Medical  Missionary 
College , referred  to  in  the  preceding  pages.  They  will 
heartily  welcome  the  co-operation  of  all  interested  in  this 
movement  on  behalf  of  earth’s  suffering  millions,  both  at 
home  and  in  distant  lands. 


“Whoso  hath  this  world's  good , and  seeth  his  brother 
have  need,  and  shutteth  up  his  bowels  of  compassion  from 
him,  how  dwelleth  the  love  of  God  in  Him  ?”  How,  indeed  ? 


Officers  of  Auxiliaries 

OF  THE 

International  Medical  Missionary  Society. 


Pennsylvania  (formerly  Merion)t  No.  1. 

President,  Mrs.  Matthew  Baird. 

Vice-Presidents, 

Mrs  Annabella  E.  Winn,  Mrs.  William  Simpson,  Jr., 

Mrs.  John  R.  Whitney,  Mrs.  John  B.  Gest, 

Mrs.  Clyde  Edwin  Barton,  Mrs.  John  L.  Richards, 

Mrs.  Charles  R.  Erdman. 

Treasurer,  Mrs.  Thomas  J.  Richards. 

Secretary,  Miss  Elizabeth  C.  Winn. 


Auxiliary  No.  2,  Newport,  R.  I. 

President,  Mrs.  J.  M.  Bryer. 

t,.  r>  ■ j . ( Mrs  G.  B.  Reynolds. 

Vice-Presidents,  ^ Mrs  Benjamin  Hazard. 

Recording  Secretary,  Mrs.  E.  P.  Allen. 

Corresponding  Secretary,  Mrs.  J.  P.  Cotton. 

Treasurer,  Miss  E.  H.  Swinburnd. 


Auxiliary  No.  3,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

President,  Mrs.  Howard  Butcher. 

Vice-President,  Mrs.  John  R.  Whitney. 

Treasurer,  Miss  Sarah  M Taylor. 

Secretary,  Mrs.  Caleb  Allen. 


Woman's  Branch 


OF  THE 

International  Medical  Missionary  Society. 


Officers  and  Managers  far  the  year  i8qS. 

President,  Mrs.  Margaret  Bottome. 

<■  Mrs.  Elias  J Herrick, 
Vice-Presidents,^  Mrs.  J A.  Edgar, 

(Mrs  Haskell  A.  Searle. 

Recording  Secretary,  Mrs.  Philip  A.  Malleson. 

Corresponding  Secretary,  Miss  Lucy  M.  Green. 


Mrs.  Mortimer  Addoms, 

Miss  A.  B.  Althause, 

Mrs.  Louis  J.  Belloni,  Jr., 

Mrs.  Emil  Blum, 

Mrs.  Margaret  Bottome, 

Mrs.  Henry  C.  Coe. 

Mrs.  Jefferson  Coddington, 

Mrs.  Joseph  Cornell, 

Mrs.  Ida  K.  Dailey, 

Mrs.  George  H.  Dunham, 

Mrs.  S.  Derickson, 

Mrs.  Geo.  D.  Dowkontt, 

Miss  L.  E.  Day, 

Mrs.  J.  A.  Edgar, 

Mrs.  Wm.  H. 


Treasurer,  Mrs.  George  Kitching 
gers, 

Mrs  Gibb, 

Mrs  Horace  Green, 

Miss  Lucy  M Green. 

Mrs.  Elias  J.  Herrick, 
Mrs.  A.  Fillmore  Hyde, 
Mrs.  George  Kitching, 
Mrs.  William  F.  Lee, 

Mrs.  Philip  A.  Malleson, 
Mrs.  Norman  L.  Munro, 
Mrs.  Guy  R.  Pelton, 

Mrs.  A.  G.  Ruliffson, 

Mrs.  Haskell  Searle, 

Mrs.  John  N.  Stearns. 
Miss  Sarah  A.  Shepley, 
/oolverton. 


THE  MISSIONARY  CALL 


My  soul  is  not  at  rest.  There  comes  a strange 
And  secret  whisper  to  my  spirit,  like 
A dream  of  night,  that  tells  me  I am  on 
Enchanted  ground.  Why  live  I here  ? The  vows 
Of  God  are  on  me,  and  I may  not  stop 
To  play  with  shadows,  or  pluck  earthly  flowers, 

Till  I my  work  have  done,  and  rendered  up 
Account.  The  voice  of  my  departed  Lord  — 

“Go  teach  all  nations” — from  the  Eastern  world 
Comes  on  the  night  air,  and  awakes  mine  ear. 

And  I will  go.  I may  no  longer  doubt 
To  give  up  friends,  and  home,  and  idol  hopes, 

And  every  tender  tie  that  binds  my  heart 
To  thee,  my  country.  Why  should  I regard 
Earth’s  little  store  of  borrowed  sweets?  I sure 
Have  had  enough  of  bitter  in  my  cup 
To  show  that  never  was  it  His  design 
Who  placed  me  here,  that  I 'should  live  in  ease, 

Or  drink  at  pleasure’s  fountain.  Henceforth,  then, 

It  matters  not  if  storm  or  sunshine  be 
My  earthly  lot,  bitter  or  sweet  my  cup; 

I only  pray,  God  fit  me  for  the  work; 

God  make  me  holy,  and  my  spirit  nerve 
For  the  stern  hour  of  strife.  Let  me  but  know 
There  is  an  Arm  unseen  that  holds  me  up. 

An  eye  that  kindly  watches  all  my  path, 

Till  I my  weary  pilgrimage  have  done; 

Let  me  but  know  I have  a Friend  that  waits 

To  welcome  me  to  glory,  and  I joy 

To  tread  the  dark  and  death-fraught  wilderness. 

And  when  I come  to  stretch  me  for  the  last, 

In  unuttered  agony,  beneath 
The  cocoa’s  shade,  or  lift  my  dying  eyes 
From  Afric’s  burning  sand,  it  will  be  sweet 
That  I have  toiled  for  other  worlds  than  this. 

I know  I shall  feel  happier  than  to  die 
On  softer  bed.  And  if  I should  reach  heaven — 

If  one  that  hath  so  deeply,  darkly  sinned  — 

If  one  whom  ruin  and  revolt  have  held 
With  such  a fearful  grasp — if  one  for  whom 
Satan  hath  struggled  as  he  has  for  me — 

Should  ever  reach  that  blessed  shore,  oh,  how 
This  heart  will  glow  with  gratitude  and  love  1 
And  through  the  ages  of  the  eternal  years, 

Thus  saved,  my  spirit  never  shall  repent 
That  toil  and  suffering  once  were  mine  below. 

— Dr.  Brown , in  Christian  Advocate. 


By  the  Author  of  u Tell  Them.” 


Murdered  Millions 
v* 

Medical  Missions* 

Synopsis:  What  is  Murder? — The  Great  Physician. — The 
Need  of  Medical  Missions. — The  Value  of  Medical  Missions. 

■ — What  Has  Been  Done. — What  Ought  To  Be  Done,  etc. 
96  pages.  Price,  15  cts. ; #10  for  100;  mailing  free. 

Dr.  Cuvier,  in  his  Introduction,  says:  “ I earnestly  bespeak 
for  this  important  treatise  a hearty  welcome  and  an  attentive 
reading.  It  carries  its  own  vindication  on  every  page.  We 
have  had  numberless  books,  letters  and  speeches  in  behalf  cf 
spreading  the  Gospel  among1  dying  souls  all  over  the  globe. 
Only  within  a few  years  has  the  enterprise  of  Medical  Mis- 
sions begun  to  sound  its  thrilling  appeals  for  the  diseased  and 
dying  bodies  of  our  fellow-creatures.” 

A Summer^  Fishing  on  the 
Bowery* 

48  pages.  5 cents;  25  copies  for  £1.00;  mailing  free. 

Not  an  account  of  pleasant  angling  in  rural  scenes,  but  ( f 
earnest  fishing  for  men  in  the  slums  of  New  York. 


"Tell  Them;" 

OR, 

The  Life  Story  of  a Medical  Missionary. 

2 56  pages,  25  illustrations. 

Cloth,  boards,  gilt  top,  60  cents.  Limp  '^covers,  30  cents. 
Mailing,  5 cents  extra. 

Direct  from  address  below  only,  TWENTY  copies  for  FIVE 
DOLLARS,  mail  or  express  included.  May  be  sent 
to  various  addresses. 

Office  of  The  Medical  Missionary  Record, 

J21  East  45th  Street,  New  York. 


The  Double  Cross 

AND 

Medical  Missionary  Record* 


PUBLISHED  SINCE  1886. 

DEVOTED  TO  MEDICAL  MISSIONS  IN  ALL  LANDS. 


Edi'or  and  Proprietor,  George  D.  Dowkontt,  M.  D. 
Associate  Editor,  George  H.  Dowicontt,  M.  D. 


Goes  to  all  the  Medical  Missionaries  throughout  the  world, 
and  to  nearly  one  thousand  Y.  M.  C.  and  Y.  W.  C. 
Associations  in  the  United  States 
and  Canada. 


PUBLISHED  MONTHLY. 


24  pages,  7 x 10,  illustrated. 

Price,  Fifty  Cents  a Year;  mailed  to  any  land,  free. 
Student  Missionary  Volunteers,  Societies  of  Christian  En- 
deavor, Y.  M.  C.  A. ’s  and  Y.  W.  C,  A.’s, 
half-price — 25  cents  a year. 

Office,  12  J East  45th  Street,  New  York. 

Sample  copy  free  on  application. 

Ncte. — For  one  dollar,  a copy  of  each  of  the  books  named  on  the 
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DATE  DUE 

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